He sighed and spoke slowly, as if attempting to reason with a child. “How are you to sit astride a pegasus while wearing agown?”
“It’s a simple matter,” she said, gathering her skirts. “I shall merely adjust my garments accordingly.” She began hitching her skirts higher, revealing her ankles and then, horrifyingly, the curves of her calves.
Evryn averted his gaze, staring fixedly at a particularly fascinating bit of stone on the ground. “This is highly inappropriate,” he muttered.
“Spare me your delicate sensibilities, Rowanwood,” she replied, already bracing herself against Cobalt’s side and beginning to hoist herself up. “I’m sure you’ve seen far more of a woman’s form than this.”
Nowthatwas certainly not an appropriate topic for discussion. He refrained from commenting. Keeping his eyes down, he said, “I assume you don’t need assistance with?—”
“No, I do not need assistance. I am perfectly capable of mounting a pegasus. As you well know.”
Yes, but not in a gown, he almost said out loud, then thought better of it.
He looked up once he was certain she’d mounted and caught a glimpse of bare skin far above her knee before he hastily looked away again, feeling his face grow warm. At least she’d been sensible enough to put her shoes back on before following him out here, though that did precious little to mitigate the impropriety of the situation.
With a resigned sigh, he mounted behind her, trying desperately to maintain some degree of space between them. The effort proved utterly futile. The moment he settled into position, they were pressed together from shoulder to knee, her back flush against his chest. He held himself rigid, arms extended awkwardly to grasp the reins on either side of her without actually touching her, like someone politely attempting not to hug a tree.
“What is wrong with you?” Mariselle asked with no small amount of impatience, leaning forward slightly and looking over her shoulder at him. “Have you forgotten how to ride?
“I assure you,” he replied stiffly, “That is not the prob?—”
His words cut off as Cobalt shifted beneath them, spreading his wings in preparation for takeoff. Evryn tensed immediately, arms tightening around Mariselle instinctively while his legs locked against hers to stay balanced. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through him, and he nearly pulled back again, but Cobalt chose that precise moment to launch skyward with a powerful downbeat of his wings.
The sudden acceleration forced Mariselle further back against his chest.She said nothing, and he suspected—given her excitement about the glowing lumyrite network—that she hadn’t even noticed. He, however, was suddenly finding the night air inexplicably warm and his cravat oddly constricting.
“Oh, isn’t it beautiful!” she exclaimed, pointing downward.
Evryn focused on steering, keeping Cobalt just above the treetops, gliding in a wide, even circle over the ruins. “The diagram,” he said, his voice sounding oddly strained to his own ears. “We need to compare it to what we’re seeing.”
“Yes, of course. Let me see it.”
Of course she would insist on taking charge. Evryn fumbled with one hand to extract the rolled papers from inside his jacket, an awkward maneuver given their current position. He passed them to her.
“Hold onto me, would you?” she said. “I need two hands for this.”
As though she’d asked him to pass the sugar, not compromise the last shreds of his dignity. He groaned inwardly, slipping one arm around her waist and anchoring her against him. Her warmth seeped through every layer of clothing. Her scent—vanilla?—tickled his nose. It was the most irritating thing in the world how perfectly she fit against him.
Cobalt continued gliding as Mariselle unrolled the diagram, holding it before them. Evryn leaned forward to see, his chin almost touching her shoulder. If she noticed this increased proximity, she gave no indication, her attention wholly focused on comparing the parchment to the glowing network below.
“It matches!” she exclaimed suddenly, a squeal of genuine excitement escaping her. “Do you see? The patterns are identical. Not a single break!”
Evryn felt a thrill race through him at her words. “That’s … good news,” he managed, finding it difficult to form simple sentences while so acutely aware of every point of contact between them—shoulders, back, waist, legs. This was an affront to the natural order of things. No Rowanwood should be touching this much of a Brightcrest. Laws of propriety, physics, and common sense were being defied.
“Good news?” Mariselle twisted to look at him, her face mere inches from his, eyes bright with triumph. “It’s extraordinary! This means you don’t need to touch anything below ground. You can focus on repairing anything that’s broken in the pavilion structure and reshaping or replacing lumyrite where necessary. That shouldn’t take you too long, should it?”
Evryn found himself staring at her lips as she spoke, the way they curved with genuine enthusiasm, utterly different from her usual cold smirk. Yes, this was indeed a bizarre alternate reality. This much had been clear from the moment he’d walked into the cottage and found Mariselle and Petunia sitting on the floor.
“Rowanwood?” she prompted, and he realized he hadn’t answered her.
“Uh, yes. I mean no. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Excellent. Well, we should return to the cottage.” She faced forward once more, to Evryn’s great relief. “Petunia will be wondering what’s become of us.”
She rolled up the diagram and settled back slightly, shifting her position between his thighs, and?—
No. For stars’ sake, no. This ride needed to end. Now.
ChapterFifteen
