Page 54 of A Dance of Water

She was far too consumed by the sights in the wintry scape of the throne room.

And the King, who was staring at her from where he rested on his ice-tipped throne. Jeweled fingers gripped the armrests, and his crown and his hair were the only two spots of gold on him—everything had been turned to blue. His cape was crystalline, white interspersed with soft blues and incandescent opals, and the silken shirt underneath was laced with blue. His breeches were white, and they seemed to shimmer under the enchanted candlelight.

Her cheeks grew uncomfortably hot as she remembered the way he had disrobed earlier. She had averted her gaze, but not before she had spied a trail of hair under his navel, leading…

"Gods, pet. Those are unbecoming thoughts for an heirus," Bastian teased.

Luella jerked her eyes away from the King, looking to the vampire who reclined with ease at her side. "From the way you behave, you would think stealing into my mind is the highlight of your day. But for a male as old as you, you must have other things that p-please you…"

Nothing pleases me as much as you,he whispered into her mind.

Her bravado was cut short by an unseemly snort. Large palms slapped down on her shoulders. "The little lamb has some bite."

She turned her head up and to the side, seeing white braids and icy eyes. The thick fingers gripping her shoulders grew tighter. She swallowed, recalling the way he had gripped her chest, expertly etching the line of the mark onto her flesh.

"T-Tharen," she managed.

The mage cocked his head to the side, plopping down on the spacious settee. "Is it possible for you to say my name without stammering like a babe who just learned how to speak?"

Her nose scrunched up in anger.

One day…

"Oh?" Bastian inquired, notching his chin on a fist as he regarded her with overt amusement. "One day, what?"

"Get out of my head," she said.

Bastian ran a finger along her shoulder in thought. "Do you like your gift?"

He was referring to the gown, suffocating as it was. After she had fled Vale’s bathing chambers, she had found Ina and Osa in his sitting room. The silent maid had delicately held a box wrapped with a white silken bow. She had offered it to Luella with an impish grin.

Luella knew where it came from without even having to ponder deeply about it.

Bastian.

She had run her fingers over the silken bow and remembered another time, silken ties on her wrists and sensual words whispered amid fear.

The true gift was not the dress. But the silks.

Smart, pet.Bastian danced his long, elegant fingertips over hercollarbone, skimming over the dipping neckline of her gown. "But the dressisstunning on you. More of a gift for me, however."

It was a pretty gown, but she was far too overheated to enjoy its wintry elegance.

A thick material, deep blue, washed with lighter shades. The waistline was trim, gathered at the waist, and hugging her slight curves to perfection. The sleeves were snug, fitted to her arms down to her wrists, before stopping at her fingers at a sharp point. For all the wintry appeal, the neckline was obscene. It was cut so low she felt the need to constantly tug it up in an attempt to cover her chest.

She knew the reasoning behind it—not to bare her skin, but to reveal the tattoo from the Binding ceremony: the King’s mark of ownership on her.

"I thought your gifts have been an attempt to earn my forgiveness, but being the thief of my thoughts is not the way," Luella said.

Tharen gestured rudely for a passing servant, grabbing an unlit cigar from the silver tray. Fire sparked at his fingertips, and he stuck the cigar in his mouth, lips puckering around the lit end as he sucked before pulling it away and letting his head thunk against the back of the settee. Smoke billowed from his mouth.

Bastian stopped the servant before he could flee, plucking two glasses from the tray. He pressed one into Luella’s hands. "For you. Sweet wine for the sweet Princess." As he took a sip, he watched her over the lip of the glass. When she made no move to drink, he sighed and placed his glass on the table before them, reaching out and tapping the tip of her nose. His eyes seemed to glow red, and his cold breath chilled her flushed skin. She bit back the sigh that threatened to fall from her lips.

With hesitancy, she brought the glass to her lips, letting the cold liquid soothe the burn of her skin, mingling with the vampire’s chill that threatened to pull her under icy waters.

Absentmindedly, Luella swirled the glass, staring out at the icy revelers and their icier ruler.

The King attracted the attention of everyone, not just her. Heads turned toward him as if directed by a string. Luella was called by something grander—a thread in her soul urged her to him.

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