Page 22 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

Yet even as she nodded in agreement and handed over the gold for the dresses to be made to their specifications, Ariadne could not help but think of that dusty rose fabric and the way Azriel looked at her from across the room.

Chapter 5

The Dodd Estate overlooked the small city of Udlow on the western edge of the Central Province, an hour’s ride from Laeton. Though the distance allowed frequent visits, it also meant taking several nights of correspondence to plan a midnight tea. Why Caersans had yet to employ mages to communicate more swiftly was lost on Emillie.

When she received a letter from Camilla confirming a date and time for her and Ariadne to call, they leapt at the opportunity. Though Revelie wished to join, her booming business did not allow it. The journey to Udlow had been a quiet ride along a wide, well-lit highway accompanied by Azriel. No one spoke much—a normal evening for Emillie, but strange for Ariadne to keep silent for so long.

In fact, the past few nights had been oddly quiet. It began after the trip into Laeton to be fitted for dresses. She had overheard her sister speaking with the guard in the front room, and while she knew something had occurred between the two of them, Emillie had no idea what. She did notice, however, the quiet acquiescence to Revelie’s choice of fabric despite Ariadne’s fingers repeatedly finding the pale rose-colored cloth and the way Azriel’s eyes followed her every move.

His hawk-like gaze continued during the ride to Camilla’s. Though he kept pace behind them and he studied each passerby with cold calculation, he always looked back to Ariadne. Each time Emillie caught him, his jaw tensed, and he refocused elsewhere.

To call it abnormal was an understatement.

Yet the strangest part of it all was Ariadne’s blissful ignorance. Since her return from the beasts in the Keonis mountains, her sister remained on edge at all times—except under Azriel’s watchful gaze. Perhaps the trust arose from the guard’s familial ties to Madan. Perhaps Ariadne did not even realize what she was doing.

Emillie could not help the pang of jealousy at how quickly her sister relaxed in the presence of the new guard. Though she knew she should be glad of Ariadne’s readjustment into Society over the last year, that she had never succeeded in what Azriel did without provocation did not sit well with her.

When they arrived at the Dodd Estate, the long drive curved up an easy slope lined by low-hanging, overlapping willows. At the top of the hill, the tunnel created by the branches formed a picturesque frame to the manor beyond. The broad, regal exterior of tan limestone stretched into the dark sky with elegant fixtures along the parapet wall. Firelight flickered in most windows, casting a golden glow along the enchanting night-blooming landscaping around its edge.

No matter how many times Emillie visited the Dodds, the home continued to take her breath away. Aside from her own residence, the manor was the largest and most grand in Central Providence.

At the foot of the stairs leading to the front doors, Azriel dismounted and, as usual, left his stallion to assist them both from the saddles. Emillie accepted his hand down without fuss, but Ariadne was already halfway to the ground by the time Azriel turned to her. He shot a hand out to steady her back, recoiling before they touched.

Emillie narrowed her eyes. Not many Caersan, particularly those within the Society, knew of or understood her sister’s opposition to touch—particularly on her back. In fact, even Emillie received a verbal lashing for trying to comfort Ariadne by rubbing a hand across her shoulders.

She still did not know what had happened to cause the reactions, and she was far from the only victim of Ariadne’s sharp tongue. Their father, Madan, and a number of handmaids fell to her onslaught. Not one of them had so much as glimpsed her bare skin, let alone been told the cause of her aversions.

They could only wonder, and such thoughts never landed anywhere pleasant.

To see Azriel pick up her sister’s cues so quickly told Emillie just how much he paid attention. What had given it away? Dancing at the ball? The way Ariadne pulled back from hugs too soon?

“Misses Harlow,” Azriel said with an incline of his head, “would you like for me to remain out front?”

“It is cold tonight,” Ariadne said, eyeing him with an unreadable expression. “Give the horses to the stablehand and wait inside. I will have tea delivered to the parlor for you.”

His eyebrows twitched together, but he nodded nonetheless. “As you wish, Miss Harlow.”

With that, Emillie and Ariadne mounted the stairs and entered the manor as the butler swung the doors open. Warm light enveloped them in the foyer, forcing Emillie’s eyes to adjust to the illumination. She blinked long and hard to clear the spots dancing before her vision, and when she opened them again, Camilla stood before them.

“You arrived earlier than I expected!” The Caersan flounced forward, her blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders as she flung her arms first around Emillie, then Ariadne, who pulled away fast. “The cooks are preparing a light midnight meal for us to take in the drawing room. Come!”

Camilla made to usher them away as the front doors opened again, this time so Azriel could slip through. The Caersan froze at the sight of him and turned, her lips curling into a smile.

“You must be the new guard,” she cooed and held out an elegant hand.

Azriel’s eyes flickered to Ariadne, then back to Camilla. He took her hand and bowed, brushing his lips along her fingers. “Azriel Tenebra, Miss.”

“Welcome to the Dodd Estate.” Camilla, comfortable with expressing her attraction to anyone, remained calm and collected. Not a flush of her cheeks or wave of her hand to create distance between them. “Shall you be joining us?”

Another glance to Ariadne, who said, “No. Perhaps some tea for him to warm up in the parlor, however?”

“Pity.” Camilla gave him another once-over before turning to the butler. “Jasmine tea and cake in the parlor for Mister Tenebra, please, Norman.”

Norman, a handsome Rusan vampire with a round face and full figure, bowed low before sweeping down the hall toward the kitchen.

As he disappeared, Camilla gestured to the yellow and gold room off the foyer with a crackling fire and plush, upholstered ivory chairs. “Make yourself comfortable, Mister Tenebra. Please do not hesitate to call on me for anything you might need.”

“I’m certain Norman will take good care of me thanks to you, Miss Dodd.” Azriel curled his lips in a warm smile that did not quite reach his eyes, bowed, and made his way into the parlor.

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