Page 109 of Shadows and Roses

But he was here—or would be soon. She wanted to pace the halls, stand at the gates, and wait for him. Instead, she was here, in this cramped meeting room next to her chambers.

Her lips twitched, remembering Damon’s curiosity when she’d led him down this hall.

"Are you finally inviting me to your bed, my dear?" Damon had murmured as they neared her chambers, taking hold of her hand. She hadn’t bothered shaking off the blatant flirtation, only giving him an exasperated look.

"See that door there?" She’d pointed at the small side door next to her chambers.

"Let me guess. Is it full of strange and intriguing implements of pleasure? Going to tie up an unsuspecting, innocent, inexperienced peasant and make him beg for mercy?"

He’d waggled his eyebrows at her. She’d burst into unexpected laughter and took her hand back to swat at him. "Damon! You terrible man!"

"Oh, my apologies. I should have said, please spare me, my sweet lady…"

The rebel was absolutely shameless. She might have found him a pleasant distraction if her heart wasn’t set elsewhere.

Shaking off her distraction, Anais waited for a pause in the discussion. "There is something your people may be able to help us with, Damon."

Vern scowled. He would rather not be beholden to the vagabonds in the least, but she was willing to use all her resources.

At Damon’s curious expression, she gestured for Trishve to speak. The General didn’t like the idea either, but she was practical. "Squads of rogue soldiers have been spotted all over the countryside. We thought them unusually organized highwaymen at first, but they appear to be friendly with the local castles. When questioned, the nobles insisted the troops are their personal guard. We don’t believe them."

Damon raised a brow. "So you want us to, what, spy on your own nobles?"

Anais nodded. "Yes. Our network is spread thin across the other nations. Your people are better suited to this, I think."

"Servants hear everything." Damon smirked. "I’ll tell them to keep an ear open."

And when they inevitably found valuable information, there would be a debt to pay.

—

The familiar, intricate carvings under her fingers slowly soothed the ache in her chest. Eyes closed, she traced the rose at the center. It had taken nearly half a day to coax out the shape of the vines curving around the edges. The Consort’s ring and bracelets were still inside.

She rubbed absently at the matching pair circling her wrists.

An hour after the meeting with her Escorts and Damon, she’d found the box in her room. Still hopeful, she’d opened it and had been sitting here since. Perhaps she’d made the offer too soon. Or perhapshe now found the touch of a woman unbearable. Octavius had reported that his charge had made physical advances, though with no passion behind his touch.

Speculating would get her nowhere.

The council meeting had gone well, at least. Damon’s charm was infectious amongst both her courts, winning over the nobles and slowly becoming friendlier with her ever-suspicious Escorts. Jerome and Octavius refused to trust him, and without unanimous support, Damon would not be welcomed into the ranks of her Escorts. He hadn't asked yet, but she'd seen the way he eyed the bracers.

If she was being honest, she didn’t quite trust him either. He said and did everything correctly, he didn’t participate in the cruel games any more than necessary, and his brazen flirting wasn’t unwelcome. There was still something that made her uncomfortable.

But there was no need to invite him into her Escorts; that had never been a concession. With the rebel recruits progressing as they’d hoped, perhaps the world could return to its uneasy truce, for now.

She slid the box into a cabinet and prepared for bed.

—

The soft, rhythmic spinning of a blade drilling into the table interrupted her breakfast.

"Escort." Anais extended her claws.

Vern flicked the blade to her without looking. His attention was locked on a man delicately painting a lady's claws.

"Don't." The quiet but forceful word barely moved her lips.

Her father went cold and calculating when he picked a target. She'd seen that look directed at Castien in the last few days.

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