Page 107 of Shadows and Roses

Still, he almost turned away from the Great Hall. Some of the tables had been pushed aside, leaving the center open. The candles were half-lit at best, but the undulating mass of people was unmistakable.

They were dancing, he concluded while avoiding the bodies and approaching the food. If dancing involved mostly hip gyrations and sometimes multiple partners at once. A few were actually dancing, slowly swaying to the soft tunes of the likely exhausted musicians.

Gathering a sampling of finger foods and a half bottle of brandy, he sat away from the heaving mass and those who had fallen asleep on, around, or near the tables.

The food slightly reduced the odd feeling in his head, as though it was filled with a soft cloth and everything a bit muffled. Not a head injury—it had started before he’d thrownhimself into the training circles, sometime during his walk out of the Queen's Wing.

That and exhaustion made him rather numb to the sight of the Great Hall. This wasn’t home, and it wasn’t comforting, but it was familiar. Sipping at the brandy, his wariness grew as several drugged or drunk revelers peeled off from the center. None gave him more than a sweeping glance after spotting his Escort's bracers and his guard.

The guard was new—she had attached herself to him on his way out of the Queen’s Wing. Octavius had mentioned all Escorts were assigned a guard now. She reminded him of his House guard, a comforting, soothing presence. The only good thing so far.

He took another swallow and wondered when she would strip him of his bracers. He didn’t belong here. Not anymore. Perhaps he should hand them over first.

His neck prickled. Castien turned to find a woman sauntering toward him. Lady Marissa. She came up right next to him, fingering her whip.

"Welcome back, you delicious creature. Looks like our Queen really doesn't let anyone else break her toys. You were a walking corpse a few moons ago."

His eyes darkened, then the fuzz in his mind mixed with the brandy, dim lighting, and faint music. He let them settle in.

Marissa was a lovely woman, if a touch older than his preference. Her long, wavy brown hair was almost black in the weak candlelight. She hadn't hurt him in the few instances he'd served her in the bedroom, and he'd never seen her use her whip harshly.

She'd do.

He stood and bowed with a one-handed flourish. "Alive and well, my lady," he crooned, straightening to display a slight curve to one side of hislips. "Care to find out how well?" he asked, extending a hand, palm up, his eyes glancing toward the dance floor.

Her brows shot up and she smiled, licking her lips. "Why not?"

The dancers remained in the same activities. The pair joined a corner of mostly upright couples, Castien leading the lady.

His hands went to her hips and pulled her close, sliding up her back, capturing her arms inside his embrace. She eagerly pressed against him, carefully running her claws along his spine. The muscles in his back tensed. He accepted the sensation. Welcomed it. Groaning, Castien tilted his head down to capture her readily open lips. Their tongues tangled and fought as his hands curled into her hair, keeping her in place.

"I didn’t think you liked me," she gasped when he eventually leaned back.

"My time away taught me to appreciate life while I’m still alive," he murmured into her ear before pressing his lips and tongue to her neck, the spiced cloves she wore a sharp contrast from the rose of the only woman he wanted to touch. He shut down that thought and breathed in deeply. She moaned as her hands tried to rub him everywhere.

"Some of you Escorts are as cold as the Queen. But you, mmm, you’re delicious fire," she purred.

Shut up. He tilted his head and caught her mouth.

Someone cleared her throat nearby.

"You’re late for training, Escort Castien," a gruff, formal tone suddenly announced.

Octavius. Someone from the training circles must have reported on him. Castien growled, his face still buried in the woman's flesh. "What are you talking about?"

"Have you forgotten already? You are assigned extra training until you are fully recovered, Escort."

Castien glared at the healer, who stared back unblinking. With a soft snarl, he stepped away from Marissa. "My apologies, lady. It appears duty calls."

She snatched his hand and took one of his fingers in her mouth, glazed eyes watching him study the way her tongue swirled. Reluctantly, she let go. "Maybe I’ll see you later?"

"Absolutely." He bowed and followed the Escort.

They walked in silence until they reached an empty hall. Octavius waved their guards back, then turned to Castien.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"I’m not allowed to have fun?" Castien drawled.

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