He gave me a bow. “Then, until we meet again.”
“We won’t,” I said stiffly.
“Oh, but we will. I guarantee it. You will come to me eventually for help. They all do.” He gave me a slight salute before turning to the side to allow me to pass. Within seconds he turned his attention to one of the serving ladies, his hand wrapped around her waist possessively. He muttered into her dark hair, and she leaned into him. I stood there frozen as his cold eyes met mine when he looked back at me as if knowing I would still be watching him, that I would see his philandering behavior, and he was right. I couldn’t pull my eyes away.
My stomach churned as the feelings that I knew too well rose up within me. Jealousy, anger, hurt—all three emotions fueled my power, but I was baffled by the one he had stirred up. The one where I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his lips—desire.
I had been insulted, manhandled, told I was plain, and then easily discarded, all in the span of a few minutes. I hated Dorian for making me feel inadequate. No one, especially a stranger, should have the power to control the way I feel. A sorceress must be in control of their emotions at all times, like controlling a wild fire. We must know when to fan the flames and when to dowse them. Dorian was like fuel that, if added to my already spotty magic, was a recipe for chaos.
I must avoid him at all costs.
Abruptly turning away from his magnetic stare, I ran my shin right into an end table and swore. I had hoped that my erratic display would go unnoticed, but a hefty laugh echoed my way.
His laughter.
He had seen.
Not daring to look back, I held my head high and came to the patiently waiting Madam Pantalonne. She had witnessed the whole exchange. Shaking her head at me, she warned, “Stay away from that one. Dorian is no good.”
“Then why do you allow him to come here. Why not kick him out of your establishment?” I asked.
“I would run the rascal out in a heartbeat.” She looked at him fondly and sighed. “But he is good for my heart and business.”
I let my mind go wild at all the hidden meanings that suggested. Did he bring in people, steal secrets, pay for nights of passion with the ladies, spend copious amounts of gold on drinks?
I had to bring my head out of the clouds as I almost tripped going up a flight of stairs to a small landing only big enough for the two of us to stand side by side. The carriage driver stayed on the steps holding my luggage.
Madam Pantalonne paused, hitching her skirt to pull out a key on a chatelaine that was tucked away within the folds. “It ain’t much,” she explained, pushing the door open, “but it will do until you find out that the palace is no place for young ladies with your gifts.”
Her warning held me back. “What do you mean?” I turned, giving her a curious stare.
“It’s just... bad things happen at the palace. It’s no place for a respectable young lady like yourself. Now, I require payment upfront. A week at a time.” Her no-nonsense attitude had me digging into my purse, giving her most of the coins in my possession, with a tip for the young errand boy as well.
She stepped back, allowing my driver to pass, and I heard the stairs creak at her departure. My driver carried my trunk into the cramped attic room with a sloped ceiling. There was only about a foot of space where I could walk side to side before my head brushed against the rafters and I needed to bend my neck. At least there was a small bed, even if it was dusty and barely large enough to fit me, and an end table.
After depositing my case by the bed, the driver shifted his weight uncomfortably and waited on the landing.
Oh right!
I gave him payment for the trip and leaned up on my tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his lips, surprising the driver. I had never kissed a man before but knew this was the easiest way to break the spell. A static shock passed between us, and I felt the power break. When I pulled away, he stumbled into the banister. His face red as a beet.
“Whoa!” he gasped, grabbing the top of his head and then touching his lips. “That was amaz—”
I smirked and closed the door, cutting off his words.
The kiss I had bestowed on the driver’s lips was trivial and made me feel nothing. But the lightest touch of Dorian’s lips on my wrist had me burning for more, and I secretly wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him instead.
“Oh, Eden,” I grumbled to myself. “Get these thoughts out of your head. He is nothing to you. You are nothing to him. He is just toying with you.” Mother warned me that men were dangerous, and Dorian was the most dangerous of them all.
Chapter Five
Unable to sleep in a strange place, in a strange bed, with strange sounds lofting up from the floor below me, I decided to take a page out of my sister Maeve’s book and explore. I couldn’t let him know that he had flustered me. Maybe secretly I wanted to get another look at the insufferable Dorian. Plus, I didn’t think I could sleep knowing he was in the same building as me.
Then I had a mischievous thought and went to the mirror and quickly began to braid my hair and use pins to create the same style, a braided crown, as I saw the girls wearing below. When I was finished, I reached down and touched my chemise while firmly capturing an image in my mind of the style of dress I wanted to glamour it too. The soft silk skirt clung to my hips and hung to the floor in a deep ruby red. A short corset showed a hint of stomach and had long silk sleeves. Using one of my own lace kerchiefs, I glamoured it into a lace veil. I smiled as I tied it around my nose and lips, hiding my grin and my identity—except for the color of my hair.
Slipping out of my room, I headed downstairs and strolled among the tables. Most of the patrons had already cleared out. There were a few still gambling and playing blood stones. Some had moved into the curtained-off tables, and the drapes were drawn. A drunk patron reached out to grasp me around the waist, but I slyly stepped out of his reach. Picking up a discarded tray, I placed empty cups on them and proceeded to clear the tables one by one, making my way over to where I had last seen Dorian.
I couldn’t explain the disappointment I felt when I saw his empty table. A quick search of the room, but no one else fit his tall, lithe body type. I sighed in despair. What good was playing a game of cat and mouse when the other player wasn’t there? I was about to give up and head upstairs when I heard men’s voices coming from the closest curtained-off table.
“The king has become quite eccentric over the last few years,” an older voice spoke out. “He has been obsessed with soothsayers and seers.”
“Not eccentric, Lord Bishop. He’s downright crazy. Ever since he lost his first son and has been terrified of the curse that has been looming over his head.”
“I heard it wasn’t a curse but a prophecy.”
The tray rattled in my hands as I crept closer to peek in. Five men were sitting at a round mahogany table—one with a gold optical lens, a portly man with an accent, a younger man with a top hat, one with a pipe, and a taller man with his back to me.
“I’d say curse. Nothing good comes when one of the royals marry,” the man with the pipe said. “Remember when King Ferdinand was set to marry that beautiful girl from the north, even proposed, and then walked down the aisle with Giselle instead. I lost a lot of money that day.”