Page 22 of Midnight Deception


Font Size:

Alex pulls a small leather volume from the shelf and shows me the cover. I quickly prop up my fading smile.

“Do you know any poems by Rhoesis?” He thumbs through the book idly. A tiny schoolboy smirk tips up one corner of his sculpted mouth. A strand of hair the color of sunset through forest trees falls over his brow. My fingers itch to tuck it back.

“All of them.”

I shouldn’t have admitted that.

He glances up at me, his smirk deepening for a second before he returns his attention to the book and marks a page with the ribbon.

“How about ‘Queen’s Sweet Surrender’?”

I quirk one eyebrow.Sweet Surrenderis one of the more risqué poems. This isn’t one Cilla or Stacia would be permitted to read. Rhoesis is considered inappropriate for unmarried ladies. Is this a trick question?

“I know it,” I admit, unable to resist the challenge he’s issued. “The poem begins, ‘Through castle walls and guarded halls/He stole at night, to her delight/His skillful touch made all locks fall/But ’twas her heart that proved his greatest theft of all.’ It’s about Queen Katea and the King of Thieves.”

He tucks the volume beneath his arm and claps, his applause echoing loudly in the otherwise silent library.

“Very good, Elsie.”

The way my heart sings at his praise is like light breaking through a storm cloud. No matter how hard I work, Tremaine and my stepsisters never utter a word of approval. I soak up Alex’s compliment like a parched plant greedily reaching for a single raindrop falling at the furthest reaches of its roots.

I drop into a curtsey. He chuckles and takes my elbow to help me rise. His features harden instantly. Glancing at my arm, I find four fingerprint bruises flowering above the edge of my glove.

“Who did this to you?”

“No one.” I yank away. He lets me. “I-I did it to myself. By accident.”

I am the worst liar. Why did I think I could get away with pretending to be a lady for an entire evening? I turn and stride away quickly, my dress swishing. Upon coming out of the stacks I encounter a robed scribe, who squints at me through thick glasses.

“Princess Aurora?”

I shake my head. I’m so bad at deception that I chose the most famous beauty in the realm to impersonate. I didn’t consider the fact that everyone in this castle would have met the Sleeping Beauty in person.

“Can’t you see she’s another woman altogether, Minge?” snarls Alex. Sudden anger clings to him like static, sparky and shocking.

He removes the spectacles and wipes them on his wide sleeve before returning them to the bridge of his nose. “My apologies, my lady. As you can see, my vision is fading. I mistook you for someone else.” Minge the scribe glances past me. “Is this the maiden, Your Hi?—”

“Yes. Now leave us.” Alex seizes my hand and drags me away. I have to trot to keep up with him. He deposits the book of poetry upon a table without breaking stride.

“Alex, please.”

He cuts me a sharp glare and doesn’t stop. This is a side of him I didn’t anticipate. He’s acting so much like Tremaine, it scares me.

“Whoever did that to you deserves to lose his hand,” he growls.

Understanding dawns. He’s angry because he wants to protect me. Not hurt me. Relief courses through me. I have so little experience with men that I can’t read his signals accurately.

“Herhand.”

He stops short. “A woman gave you those bruises?”

“My stepsister. It was an accident. We were practicing dancing.” When it comes to protecting my family, however undeserving, apparently Icanlie competently. “I tripped. She caught me.”

I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’ll believe me. After a few seconds, Alex’s shoulders fall away from his ears. He spikes his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath.

“I overreacted.”

I nod.