“Something I said was amusing?”
“It’s just I arranged to play the mysterious pirate dressed in black this evening to get away from the politics and the power games… and here I am, being schooled and shoved right back in my royal box.”
“Your cushy satin lined box, oh, woe is me.” Alia noted Talac grin briefly, the far off torches causing his eyes to glitter behind his mask.
“You are snug in your own little box, fair Beast. Don’t you find some days the pressure outweighs the privilege?”
“Undoubtedly. But I take a deep breath, and generally within ten minutes a new calamity arises, one that has me wishing to turn back the clock ten minutes to when it had been no where near as bad… then I take a breath and wait ten minutes… you get the gist.” A glow low in Alia’s tummy igniting as Talac laughed loudly in response, grabbing Alia’s hand in his, raising it and planting a kiss across the back of her knuckles. Their eyes meeting.
Both suddenly aware they were essentially alone out here. No one else wandered this far away from the flickering torches, that distant light shimmering across the crimson of Alia’s dress, giving the impression she was fire come to life. The music and sound of the distant crowd muted.
This was the first time the two of them had been alone since the ride to Pallene, and suddenly, strangely, Alia found herself tongue tied. “We should head back, enjoy the entertainment.”
“Yes.”
Yet still neither of them moved. Gazes locked. Her hand still held loosely in his. A stolen moment. Just the two of them. And then it hit her. Potentially this was their last chance to be alone together. The likelihood of this opportunity arising again was infinitesimally small. Alia’s gaze dipping down slightly, settling upon Talac’s lips. Should she? Effectively it would be a kiss goodbye.
Almost of its own accord her body began to lean forward. A dark cloud covering the moon at the same time. No, not a cloud, the shadow of a man. Talac pushing Alia out of the way, the black clad man bursting out of the wooded parklands, his knife making a whistling sound as it sliced through the air where Alia had been standing just a second before.
Cruddy hell. Alia fumbled aside layers of tulle, trying to reach the blade she had strapped to her thigh, whilst Talac grappled with their attacker. A man who was only a few inches shorter than Talac, though definitely broader. He likewise wore a mask, a full face one, covering all his features but his eyes. Just as Alia finally pulled her blade free of the sheath, the two men twisted around abruptly, the attacker’s knife sailing away in to the darkness. The men broke apart. Their attacker making one last useless swipe at Talac before dashing away into the dark woods.
“Hold.” Alia grabbed for Talac’s shoulder. “It’s too dark out there and you don’t have a weapon.” Her hand felt strangely sticky, lifting it up to the moonlight in order to get a better look. Fear stealing Alia’s breath away, so her next words came out low and stiff. “Talac, you’ve been stabbed.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Perri sensed Brandth’s approach, even as Alia disappeared with the man dressed all in black, heading for the dance floor. Attuned to him, Perri looked to her left. Oh, my. Brandth should have looked ridiculous in his over the top Mendath outfit, but damn, it suited him. Mendath had been a legendary explorer, artist, bandit, war hero and of course… lover. Plays, songs and operas had been written regarding his exploits. Always depicting him in the prime of his life, wearing forest green tight breeches, a loose billowing matching shirt and a jaunty feather fixed into his peaked hat.
Lifting her hand, bringing it to his lips, it was as if Brandth were striking a match, heat igniting low and deep within Perri.
“Words fail me, you look…”
“Wicked… it’s the name of the costume.”
“Delightfully wicked, and stunningly sinfully beautiful.”
Perri liked how Brandth’s gaze remained fixed upon her eyes as he addressed her. No leering down her décolletage, or trying to study the contours of the webbed glittering mask, attempting to sneak a peek behind it. “And you, Lord Brandth, look decidedly handsome this evening. Like a man seeking a mountain to conquer. A rich man to rob. Or an army to defeat single-handedly.”
“Where Mendath found time to supposedly seduce all those women astounds me. I find all my time and energy consumed by the pursuit of one temptress. Fair lady, I would ask you to dance, but unfortunately my leg isn’t quite up to such activity yet. Perhaps I might escort you somewhere a little more… private, so I can wax lyrical about your beauty, and you may feel relaxed enough to share further secrets regarding your extraordinary attire.”
Perri allowed Brandth to begin leading her around the edge of the ballroom. “Secrets?”
“Buttons. Bows. Knots. How many and where might they be located.” He lifted his free hand, waggling his fingers. “Or… in the spirit of Mendath, I would be happy to go on a close and personal exploration, and we can uncover all of those secrets together.”
“Perhaps.” Hiding her amusement as Brandth stumbled a little. Yes, two could play at the seduction game. They continued to skirt the edge of the room, ducking behind the crowd until Brandth abruptly stopped, holding her in place beside him. “Why-”
“Ssshhh, just a little patience.”
A minute passed, she was about to enquire again what was going on when she felt a draft behind her, glancing back, she was shocked to see a narrow doorway had opened in the panelling. Brandth ducked in, pulling Perri quickly in behind him. The secret door closing as soon as she’d cleared it.
“Hold still, I just… there.” Brandth held up a small lantern he’d managed to light. “Come.” He led the way up a narrow dark staircase, their footsteps loud. With the closing of the door the sounds of the ball had vanished completely.
Perri was intrigued. A secret door with a staircase behind it. A very clean one she noted. No dust. Though the air was a little stuffy. They climbed in silence. Up at least two floors before Brandth halted in front of what looked like a wall, but a moment later a door slid open and they were able to exit.
The room beyond was surprising and not at all what Perri was expecting. A library. A private one, for the room wasn’t large. Every wall lined with bookcases, all full, from the ground to the ceiling. There was an unlit fireplace, two lanterns placed on the mantle above it, illuminating the room with a soft glow reflected in the ornate mirror hung above the mantle.
The library was sparsely furnished except for a large very comfortable looking red velvet chaise lounge that took up most of the floorspace, along with several small tables. A bottle of mead, glasses, and a bowl of grapes resting upon one of them.
Once Perri’s gaze hit on the chaise, she couldn’t seem to look away. Absently taking the glass of mead Brandth poured and handed over. A wave of insecurity suddenly assailing her as he took her other hand, but instead of drawing her down onto the chaise, he led the way out onto a small stone balcony that overlooked the entertainment going on in the gardens two stories below.
