Page 72 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

“Of course.” Still, Ariadne did not look at her.

Closing the suite door behind her, Emillie took a deep breath to temper herself. She knew her sister well enough to know that every word out of her mouth had been more lies. The only problem was that Emillie had no way to help her escape the inevitable, and with the engagement ball looming on the horizon, those lies were about to become her reality.

Over the next week, Ariadne found herself lingering in uncommon places. Confined to the manor, except for the rare instances when her father was willing to take her to town, she had little to keep her occupied. Reading, painting, and practicing the steps to ballroom dances were how she maintained her sanity. With the engagement ball quickly approaching, she needed every possible activity to distract her.

The top spots to loiter around the manor included those where she would be most likely to see Azriel. The first night, she lingered near the small lake near the driveway he walked down each night to check in with the estate guards. At first, she was not certain he noticed her on his way out.

Upon his return to the main house, however, was another matter.

“Good evening, Miss Harlow.” He looked around, a light frown forming between his brows when he found her unaccompanied. The cut she had given him had healed. A small, shiny scar remained amidst the yellowed bruise. “Are you alone?”

Her heart picked up its pace. “Yes.”

In response, he started down the hill to where she sat on a bench and extended a hand to her. “Your home though it may be, I must ask you to return to the manor with me.”

“I quite like it out here,” she said, taking his hand. Rather than standing, she tugged him closer. “Sit.”

Azriel inhaled sharply. “Miss Harlow, it would be—”

“Inappropriate.” Ariadne sighed and loosened her grip on his palm. His fingers, though, held fast. Her breath hitched.

“Please, Miss Harlow.”

“I wish to stay outdoors, Mister Tenebra.” She twisted her hand from his, missing the warmth of his touch as soon as it disappeared. “Stay if it pleases you.”

He stood for a long moment in silence, then said, “As you wish.”

So she sat that night, languishing in the moonlight with Azriel standing nearby. They spoke infrequently, his presence enough of a salve to her anxious tendencies.

The next night, she kept to the parlor. When she saw him again, her stomach fluttered. She put her book on her lap, and he paused halfway through the foyer and leaned a shoulder against the opening.

“Good evening, Miss Harlow.”

The way he said her name had changed over time. At their first meeting, he had been stiff and cold. His face gave nothing away, and his answers to any questions were short and filled with gravel.

Now his tone was softer, sweeter, and more of a purr. Though he distanced himself in the presence of others, he let a smile slip through his expressionless mask when they were alone.

“Mister Tenebra.”

“Not out by the lake tonight?” His lips curled, and damn if they were not the most sensuous thing she had ever seen. His dimples deepened to show his genuine feelings.

Ariadne pulled her lower lip into her mouth, and his eyes tracked the movement. Warmth curled through her. “Not tonight.”

“Pity.” He straightened away from the wall. “I was looking forward to some fresh air.”

“I could do with a walk through the lower gardens.” She set the book aside and stood. “Stretch my legs a bit.”

His pale eyes flickered to her long limbs and back. “Alright, then.”

Ariadne strode forward, focusing on a point before her so she would not be tempted to look at him. Her blood thrummed through her veins, and she could not believe only she could hear its thunderous roar. She paused beside him, and her fingers brushed his hand. In response, he laced a couple with hers. She exhaled hard, then continued out the front door with her guard at her back.

Night after night, she found a way to spend time with Azriel Tenebra, the guard who listened to her. He showed her how to hold a dagger after a long argument about whether or not it was appropriate and what to do with it if she were ever in a situation she was not comfortable with. The time they spent together felt easy, and she looked forward to the distraction.

But the night before her engagement ball she understood what he had silently been doing: teaching her strategies for when he would no longer be around. As the realization set in, Ariadne felt her world drop out from under her. Loren’s claim on her would be solidified at the following night’s ball, with the wedding looming on the horizon.

Azriel would no longer be a part of her life, and he knew it. Each night since she had accused him of abandoning her, he had made up for his absence.

Heart cracking into what felt like a thousand pieces, Ariadne mounted Astra on her own and took off across the estate lawns. Eventually, someone would notice her disappearance. She had no doubt in her mind it would be Azriel. Still, she rode with the hope that each stride of her mare would alleviate the heaviness on her chest.

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