I nodded, feeling a warmth at the recognition.
“Well, Estrella, would you do me the kindness of sitting with me while I paint? I would truly appreciate the company.” He picked up his brush, applying a streak of purple with a graceful fluidity.
“That sounds wonderful, Razvan.”
“Feel free to call me Raz; everyone else does.”
So, holding my new plant, I watched as the painting came to life under his careful brushstrokes. His confidence in his work was admirable; he didn’t seem arrogant but rather accepting of the direction his choices on the canvas led him. We sat in comfortable silence for hours. I was content to observe his hands gliding paint across the canvas for as long as he would allow, and he seemed perfectly happy to have my quiet presence beside him.
Chapter 15
ROMAN
Imay have exaggerated our arrangement a bit. An acolyte would certainly help me navigate those like Alexander, but it always came down to negotiations and stroking egos. Estrella wouldn’t have accepted my assistance otherwise—she was too accustomed to kindness at a price. Still, I felt no guilt when I saw the brightness in her eyes as she opened the door to her workroom. She had holed up there ever since, and I couldn’t be more pleased. She didn’t need to know I’d stretched the truth.
Besides, it gave me an excuse to be near her, something I found myself wanting more and more lately, especially after her explosive outburst in my workshop. Her violence was intoxicating, particularly when directed at me. I had almost let the chisel hit me just to feel the pain of her hand. She probably wouldn’t have liked that, though.
I glanced across the carriage at her, nestled by Isabella’s side. She wore a peacock blue gown with ruffled shoulders and a lace overlay. I wondered if her color choice had anything to do with my earlier comments, but either way, I loved it. She looked stunning in blue.
Isabella looked good too. I hardly ever saw her dressed up anymore. Usually, she favored function over fashion, but today she wore a peach gown made entirely of ruffles. Their skirts together took up most ofthe space around our feet.
We’d been stuck like this for a few hours now, nearing the city painfully slowly. Razvan sat next to me, scribbling away in his sketchbook. I rested my chin on his shoulder.
“Are you sketching me?”
He didn’t even glance my way as he replied, “Why on earth would I be sketching you?”
“Because I am the perfect muse.”
The corners of his lips curled up, but he said nothing. He was, in fact, not sketching me but rather the girls across from us. The flow of their skirts gave the illusion of movement, and he perfectly captured the light in Estrella’s eyes and Isabella’s bemused grin.
“Did you do any sketches while at the Koli House?” I reached across him and yanked the sketchbook from his hands.
He spun his head toward me, his sapphire earrings swinging with the movement. “You’re exhausting, you know that?”
I grinned. Though he was the youngest, Razvan was the most levelheaded of my entire cabinet. It was partly why I’d brought him on. It also made it easy to bother him incessantly. I flipped back the pages in his sketchbook, careful to grab only the edges to avoid smudging the art. Many of the recent artworks depicted his recent travels to the Koli Islands.
I stopped a few pages back. “Is this Laki?”
The sketch depicted a stocky man with shoulder length hair knotted away from his face. His exposed torso was covered in traditional Koli tattoos. He was astride a surfboard carved with moons and wolves, cutting through the waves with intent focus. The way Razvan crafted the curling water made it look as though the count—or as the Koli called him, the alpha—was in motion.
Razvan’scheeks flushed. “Yes.”
I hadn’t met Laki yet, he’d taken the position of count only a few years before I ascended the throne. Still, he had been amicable in discussions of alliance. I wondered if his willingness to work with me had anything to do with the blush on Razvan’s cheeks. Good for Razvan, he deserved it.
“Let me see!” Estrella leaned across and snatched the book from my hands. Her fingers brushed mine, sending a shock through my senses. Her heartbeat echoed through my flesh and her warmth scorched my skin.
I watched her with quiet fascination. Her movements were enchanting—the slow, methodical way her fingers traced the pages, vibrating with life and energy. The bounce of her leg when she was excited. Even how she held herself stiffly upright, though when she wasn’t paying attention, her body would relax, as if she wanted to forget the habits of her training. I didn’t spend much time around humans, and when I did, they weren’t like her. I was entranced; I had been since her blade cut into my chest.
As we drew closer to Greford, my mind began to buzz with activity. I hated the city and its overwhelming throng of people. Their streams of consciousness felt like an omnipresent hum in my mind—impossible to distinguish any particular voice and impossible to push out. The smell lingered, a mix of sewage and sweat, settling into my taste buds like spoiled wyne.
When I was younger, I enjoyed escaping to the city. I’d fly in on fledgling wings and crawl through Greford’s underbelly until I found Sorin. Then we’d get into all manners of trouble. Now that Leonidas was gone, I realized the desire to escape had never been about the city; it had been about getting away from him, seeking a sense of freedom. It was funny how the roles had reversed. Now, the buzz of the city felt like a heavy cloak of chaos settling on my shoulders instead of theloosening of shackles.
Yet seeing the brightness in Estrella’s eyes as we navigated the busy cobblestone streets made it worth it. Her vibrating excitement washed over me in waves, cloaking that distracting hum with a comfortable warmth. Despite all my failures thus far, at least I could give her this. I wanted to show her all of it. Anything to keep that smile on her face.
My carriage driver, Avram, took a sharp turn down a narrow side street, weaving us through the traffic and shouting street vendors. As quickly as we’d entered, we left the city behind, following a well-maintained road lined with hedges and rolling hills. The Levis mansion loomed just outside the city, its domineering walls a testament to excess.
Our carriage paused momentarily at a gilded gate, each post adorned with an open-mouthed lion with eyes of ruby. The guard allowed us in, and we continued to a massive entry trimmed with rose bushes and golden statues of lions in various playful poses.
