Page 110 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

“We’ll be at the reception any minute,” Azriel explained. “If we continue this now…we’ll never make it there.”

“Then let us go home.”

Azriel closed his eyes, a smile curling his lips, and laid his head back with a sigh. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Is that a no?” She drew her fingers down his throat to hold his cravat and tugged just hard enough to make him look at her.

“Patience,” he murmured and dropped his forehead on her shoulder, arms wrapping tight around her waist. “Patience.”

Ariadne huffed. “I believe I have been quite patient.”

“I’m not speaking to you.” His hands roved from her body to her bare knees and slowly slid up her thighs. “I’m reminding myself.”

She stilled at the firm weight of his palms on her bare skin. Everything had been good and well with the clothes still between them—with his lips reminding her precisely who she was with. Flesh on flesh in such an intimate place sent her mind reeling into the dark depths of her memory.

Azriel froze and jerked back, removing his hands in a flash. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said a little too quickly and shook her head with a small smile. She shifted down his legs, slipping off his lap to sit back on her own seat. “You are right. Patience.”

“Ariadne.” He frowned at her and sat forward again. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Hide from me.” His voice cracked. “Please.”

The carriage slowed and stopped, saving Ariadne from explaining what terrors haunted her. She had hoped that, with time, those particular fears would have alleviated. Evidently, she was terribly mistaken.

Getting through her own wedding day without confronting her past became less and less of a possibility.

Ariadne adjusted her skirts and hair. “Is my lipstick—?”

“You’re perfect.”

The door opened, and a Rusan man she did not yet know stepped aside. Azriel exited the carriage without a word, held out his hand, and waited. She dropped her veil back into place before following suit.

Applause broke out from the awaiting wedding guests as she settled on the lantern-lit gravel path before her. The sudden shift from privacy to, once again, having all eyes on her caught the air in her chest. She slid closer to Azriel, drawing strength from his solid presence at her side.

“You ready?” Azriel murmured, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and through her.

The vibrations soothed her tension, so when he held out an arm, Ariadne slid her hand through the crook and followed when he started forward. She leaned in close so her cheek brushed his arm, focusing straight ahead to ignore the whispers and sharp looks.

At the end of the long path stood her father. Azriel released her and stepped forward so they could clasp arms. The Caersan men spoke in low voices for a moment, then her father reached up, grabbed the back of Azriel’s head, and they pressed their foreheads together.

The customary gesture of acceptance eased a knot in Ariadne’s stomach, so when her new husband retreated and she stepped forward, it was with a lighter heart.

“Daughter.”

“Father.”

He lifted the golden rose circlet from her head, then pulled the veil off completely. “I will miss you.”

Not the words she expected to hear, and the sudden rise of emotions was far from what she anticipated feeling after so much fear and so many threats. Still, as her only parent left, she could not help the love she had for him.

She blinked back tears, eyes burning. When she spoke, her voice rasped from the tightness in her throat, “This is not goodbye.”

“No,” he admitted, and she bit her lip at the silver shimmer in his eyes. “But you will not return the same. You never do.”

The nod to her abduction and her change since pushed her over the edge. Ariadne sucked in a strained breath, a tear rolling down her cheek. “But maybe this time, it will be for the better.”

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