Page 39 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

Emillie hummed, detecting no lies. “Alright. Why do you believe the General dislikes him?”

“The look of disgust when he entered the library.” Ariadne chewed her lip. “And he was not pleased at all to see him at the ball last night.”

“That does not sound like he dislikes him specifically,” Emillie pointed out, “but is merely protective.”

“He called Mister Tenebra a watchdog.”

Emillie frowned. “Well, then.”

“Mister Tenebra has done nothing wrong that I can tell.” Ariadne continued to worry her lip, pulling her hand free from Emillie and twisting her fingers together in her lap. “Have you noticed anything that would make him out to be less than trustworthy?”

She took a moment to consider it. Over the last fortnight, Azriel had been the only guard to look after them. Though quite different from Madan and far more sullen, Emillie could not pinpoint a moment in which she ever felt uncomfortable. He was respectful and caring and took notice of little things, which put them at ease, even if they did not recognize it at the time.

“Never,” Emillie admitted. “He has always been perfectly gentile. Although…”

Ariadne frowned. “What is it?”

“He does look at you a lot.”

“What?” Ariadne’s cheeks reddened, her hands stilling.

Emillie scrunched her nose. “Have you not noticed?”

The blush deepened. Her sister was hiding something. “Not entirely…”

“Well,” she mused, “maybe the General has taken notice of Mister Tenebra’s…careful observations and believes it to be something more.”

Her sister continued to chew her lip but said nothing.

“Ari,” she continued slowly, “is there something more?”

In true Ariadne fashion, her sister scoffed loudly and shook her head despite the brightness of her face. She looked away as a sparkle picked up in her eyes. “The very question is preposterous. There is nothing, and there will never be anything between me and Mister Tenebra.”

“Even I can admit that he is handsome,” Emillie said with the hopes of drawing out more from her sister.

Ariadne glanced at her, visibly fighting back a smile. “He is.”

“It is a shame he is not a part of the Society,” she said a bit wistfully.

“His mother was.”

“And you know this how?” Emillie laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “Well, maybe his father was a secret fae king or something.”

Her sister smiled broadly. She knew that one would get her to smile. Ariadne adored her fae tales and all their fantastical elements—something Emillie never truly understood.

“And what if he was?” Ariadne said, sitting back again. “Even then, he would not be considered good enough for a Caersan woman.”

“But!” Emillie held up a finger. “He would be a prince in disguise. That has to count for something, right?”

They both laughed. Emillie could not remember the last time they had found so much entertainment in something so simple. Yet despite the jokes, she could see her sister’s thoughts swirling. As much as Ariadne claimed to want to marry Loren Gard, a piece of her came to life around Azriel Tenebra.

Chapter 9

Azriel avoided Ariadne over the next week. With Madan back from his visit with Whelan and Kall, it became easier to fade into the background. He took over the schedules posted in the guard house, which got him away from the manor more often, and the one journey into Laeton was made more simple with Madan entertaining both Ariadne and Emillie. Visits from potential suitors required their presence to oversee interactions, and that was all.

The main event of the week, a dance at Councilman Fletcher’s estate, allowed him a chance to breathe. Madan took to circling the ballroom, and Azriel kept outdoors, battling against the urge to burn the entire manor to the ground.

“We’re going to town tonight,” Madan informed him while they broke their fast together in the common room the following evening.

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