Of Blood and Roses

Chapter 24

As much as I told myself it would be my only night with Pierre, it wasn't.

In the days that followed leading up to the ball celebrating my engagement to Jourdon, Pierre and I met several more times. We both knew it was impossible to hide such an affair under the watchful eyes of the palace. Already too many people knew. There were the guards that stood watch that night, and the quiet servant that arrived the next morning, steaming herbal tea in hand.

"To prevent any...unwanted things happening," Pierre had said, dismissing the servant.

But thankfully, all of them stayed silent, and the king seemed none the wiser. Even if I felt Darren's quiet gaze following me. I knew he was eager to lecture me about what I was doing.

I didn't care. It was reckless. It was wrong. But I was so tired of always doing what was right. How could things get any more dangerous than being betrothed to a man that wanted me dead?

Jourdon tried to call on me several times, but each time I came up with an excuse, seeing to the planning of the ball with the Marquise alone.

I knew Sabine didn't like it. She was no fool, but like with Darren, I never gave her the chance to say what she wanted to say. The idea of facing her left a strange uneasiness in my stomach, and it was hard to even meet her eyes.

I already knew what she was thinking, I saw it in her troubled gaze each time I refused Jourdon's invitations. I kept telling myself I would take the next one. Ease suspicion. Listen to the voice that kept telling me I was going too far. But avoiding Jourdon was easier than facing him.

I had Pierre for now and being with him was easier than facing the pile of quiet criticism and growing dread that was looming over me like gathering shadows.

One day Pierre and I found ourselves in the garden where we had stolen off behind a hedge. Pierre rolled away from me, spreading himself out on the grass, twigs sticking out from his tousled hair. He smiled wide as the sun shone down through the gaps in the cloudy sky and we used his discarded long coat to fend off the lingering chill in the air.

I perched up on an elbow and leaned over him. He lifted his chin and I bent down, leaving a lingering kiss on his mouth. He kept his eyes closed as we parted, his dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks as sunlight streamed through the leaves to paint patterns on his skin. For a moment, his dark hair shone vibrant red, but then the light shifted, leaving it his usual dark-oiled black. Beside us sat his discarded shoes, their golden buckles sparkling amid the garden.

"We probably shouldn't linger much longer; someone is sure to come through here soon enough."

Pierre pouted as he wrapped an arm around my waist. "I am quite comfortable. No need to be so hasty, no one will come looking for us here. Besides, they did all their gardening early this morning and we are far enough from the stables that no one will pass by."

I frowned, but relented, snuggling back down into his arms. I knew this could not last much longer, but each time I saw him I always said it would be the last time--one last memory before we were forced to part. He would probably hate me once I did, but I could not bring myself to tell him.

Pierre tightened one of my loose curls around his long fingers, tugging on it as he gazed up at me curiously.

"Tell me of your magic."

I immediately stiffened, then relaxed when I saw him arch an eyebrow in amusement.

"My apologies, I did not realize it was a touchy subject."

I shook my head. "It is alright, but I have already told you most of what I know. I've never truly known it, after all, just the stories. It is as distant to me as the palace of Verenice is to Roche."