Page 9 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

“You still have time to figure it out,” Madan said quietly after a moment. “We will figure this out.”

Azriel blinked long and hard. “I need some air.”

“Check the stations while you’re out there.”

He grunted in affirmation, unable to voice any words that wouldn’t do more harm. He turned and hurried through the open doors. Caersans shuffled out of his path, eyeing him with mixtures of surprise and distaste. The faint blue veins on his throat and pointed ears were enough of a beacon to the members of the Society. Half-breed bastard.

No matter the title Azriel inherited, that would be all they saw.

Ariadne did not escape the rest of the Caersan listed on her dance card. One by one, they approached her, and before long, her feet ached from stumbling through the steps of the cotillion and minuet on top of more quadrilles and waltzes. Despite her quick healing as a vampire, everything hurt.

By the time the last dance on her card ended, Ariadne was more than ready to be done. She staggered away from the dance floor, snatched a wine glass from a passing servant bearing a fresh tray, and hid behind a gaggle of giggling Caersan debutantes not a moment too soon. Loren appeared a breath later, and she snaked away.

For each group dance, Loren partnered with another woman and positioned himself close enough for them to take a turn together. Ariadne returned his smiles and relished the rush she felt each time his fingers brushed hers. To feel wanted by someone she liked so much was a thrill unto itself.

Yet she could not bring herself to dance with him again. Not only did the pain drive her from the floor, the guilt did as well. She had danced and drank and flirted with her dead fiancé’s brother. And she enjoyed it too much. Particularly when she blamed herself for Darien’s death.

If she had not called for him that night, maybe he would not have followed.

Ariadne shook the image of his empty gaze from her head. No. She could not think of him that way. Not when there was still so much he would have wanted her to do—for them both. If it meant marrying another, even his brother, he would support her.

He had always supported her.

She emptied the glass in one large gulp. The rich wine settled in her gut like a warm pool, heating her from the inside. She placed it on the closest table before pivoting and weaving between the guests until the brisk air of the Spring equinox swept across her hot cheeks.

The upper gardens, complete with a massive lawn rolling from the doors to the forest’s edge and dense bushes bursting with the first night-blooming flowers of the year, smelled fantastic. As one of Ariadne’s favorite places to loiter, she always felt comfortable amid the greenery. A fountain sloshed at the center of a walking path, cutting the lawn in half and drowning out the incessant sound of strings.

Ariadne sighed in relief. Many Caersans milled about outside. Married vampires and engaged—chaperoned—couples made their way through the upper gardens. Yet despite the number of bodies, it did not compare to the ballroom. Out here, she could breathe.

Breathe and be free of groping hands. It was as if all men were trained to dance by ensuring they held a woman in the most awkward of places. Were it not for the crowd watching on, she was certain someone would have grabbed her breast.

Animals, all of them.

Keeping in sight of the doors, as all unmarried Caersan women are advised when alone, Ariadne settled onto a stone bench. She leaned over and yanked the heeled shoes from her feet with a groan. They throbbed and ached when she dug her thumb into her arch. For a brief moment, her mind went blank, forgetting where she was.

“Elevation.”

Ariadne choked back a yelp and sat up, swinging her gaze to the nearby shadows. From them stepped the new guard.

“What?”

He tilted his head. “Prop them up on a pillow when you go to bed.”

“Dawn is hours away.”

“Then prop them up now.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I must apologize. What was your name again?”

“Azriel Tenebra, miss.”

“Right.” Ariadne rotated her feet. “Why are you out here?”

The guard shifted further into the light, eyeing the doors behind her. “Checking in with the grounds guards.”

“Then pray tell,” she said, switching directions for a better stretch, “why you are lurking in the dark.”

“Miss Harlow—”

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