Page 128 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

It certainly made her want to do it for him more often.

“Ariadne?”

Emillie’s voice cut through the image of Azriel looming above her, his hand in her hair, and dragged her abruptly back to reality. She blinked hard, shook her head once, and looked to her sister. “I apologize. What were you saying?”

Across the table, Azriel’s nostrils flared, and he shot her a heated look of warning before returning to his conversation with Lord Dodd. She would never get accustomed to his fae senses smelling her arousal—though it always benefited her when she wanted him between her legs. Her core throbbed.

“When are you leaving for Monsumbra?” Revelie cut in, peering around Emillie, a spoonful of yogurt and fruit in hand. She had arrived not long after Ariadne and joined them in Camilla’s suite to relax before the festivities.

Ariadne glanced again at Azriel, who pretended he hadn’t heard the question. “The end of the week, I believe. After the final Council meeting.”

Her stomach knotted as she spoke the words. Eastwood Province lay almost two nights away, and Monsumbra, at its heart, another night’s travel. With the threat against Azriel, the journey could be treacherous. Though he had reassured her they would have a guard of soldiers to protect them, the last time she had gone east, it had not been for entertainment.

Not much of the towns, and certainly not the capital city, stood out in her memory. Only a mixture of snow, a couple of small huts, and the twinkling lights of homes in the distance. That the dhemon who had abducted her even thought to provide her a place of refuge from the sun only underscored his determination to get her to the final destination: the dhemon keep.

The first morning after she had been taken from her bedroom, rays of sunlight trickled through the white-flecked evergreens. It had been the only time she shrank in close to the dhemon riding behind her on the horse. The strong mage rope securing her wrists held her firmly to the saddle, and for a beat, she believed he would let her fall victim to aegrisolis.

After all, she had no idea what he had in store for her.

To her surprise, the dhemon had shrugged off his cloak and draped it over her before guiding the horse into a darker copse of trees. They arrived at the first small hut on their journey not long after. He untied her from the saddle and carried her into the building, where he drew the curtains and lit a fire in a hearth hardly large enough for a log of wood.

Her sleep those few days leading up to the dhemon keep had been the last peaceful rest she had for months. Though her time under Ehrun’s torment had not been long, he continued to haunt her for weeks to come. He still haunted her.

So the prospect of moving closer to the keep made Ariadne’s skin crawl. Though this time she would be on the main highway between provinces, the journey would be similar enough—longer, even, given the slow pace of a carriage.

“You will leave before the end of the Season?” Emillie asked, looking crestfallen. “I had hoped you would remain until Noctium.”

The autumn equinox and final ball of the Season were always an abundance of revelries—proposals from suitors and the passing of congratulations to everyone who married within those six exciting months. Ariadne, the Golden Rose and first wedding amongst the Caersan, had already had enough of the outpour from well-wishers. Half were backhanded blessings or accompanied by pitying glances. She wanted no more.

“Azriel must return to take his place as Governor,” Ariadne explained, noting the slow tension building in her husband’s shoulders. “He has been eager to get back.”

Camilla chewed thoughtfully and, after swallowing, said, “You will return when he comes for Council, yes?”

With a small smile, she nodded. “Most likely.”

The return trip to Laeton from Monsumbra did not appeal to Ariadne, either. Despite it not being filled with the same level of terror as when she headed east, it had been overshadowed by the constant threat looming behind her and Madan.

“Fantastic!” Camilla nudged Emillie with a gentle elbow. “We will need to visit them as well, I believe.”

Emillie’s eyes brightened at that. “May we?”

“I do not know what I would do without your company,” Ariadne admitted. “You are all welcome in Monsumbra.”

Revelie raised a brow. “Will you not need an escort?”

Of course they would. To travel so far unaccompanied would encourage rumors bound to ruin Emillie or Camilla. As a business owner and proud Caersan woman who has long since written off the Society’s burdensome rules, Revelie would be free to do as she wished. With the dhemon threat, however, none of them would be safe without family or a set of guards.

“I am certain an escort could be arranged.” Ariadne glanced at her father, still deep in conversation with Lord Dodd. Between his influence both financially and politically, finding a company of guards would be no issue. “Perhaps Madan would be able to assist as well.”

Azriel stiffened beside her but said nothing. Something had happened between them, and he had yet to speak of it. Madan’s prolonged absence was odd, though Azriel had explained he’d wanted to give them space after their wedding.

“Perhaps I can join you for Brutium,” Emillie said and leaned forward with a hopeful glint in her eye.

“Does your family not hold a ball for the winter solstice?” Revelie tilted her head with a pout. “I know I will be too busy to travel at that time of year anyway.”

Camilla smiled. “Perhaps we could host this year so you could visit Monsumbra.”

The planning continued, though Ariadne knew it all to be mere air passed between hopeful Caersan women. Without the approval of the men in their lives, none of it would come to fruition. Between Council business and the incessant desire to marry off both his daughters to acceptable men in the Society, her father would find any deviation from his plans to be second-rate.

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