Page 45 of Compass Points
She found it funny that her bag was sitting in the hallway, and Luc’s was nowhere in sight. The caretaker hadn’t known where to put hers. With all the gossip they’d left behind in the village, they must have wondered if her things belonged in a guest room or Luc’s room. She felt a flush rise to her cheeks at the thought of people she hadn’t met making assumptions about her sleeping arrangements.
Luc led her back towards the library but passed it, heading for his room. It was large and spacious with a beautifully carved, dark wood, four-poster bed as the centerpiece. It was flanked on each side, not by end tables but by bookshelves, each filled beyond capacity, similar to her own.
The room had matching dark wood floors like the rest of the house, with a large fireplace next to the door. Suddenly unable to look at Luc, she wandered away from him and found an attached bathroom and a closet. It wasn’t overly extravagant but elegant in its clean simplicity. In front of the fire were two reading chairs with a table between them. She briefly wondered if this cozy scene saw any actual use. An image of herself wrapped up in a blanket reading there helped itself to the forefront of her thoughts.
Luc set her bag down next to the chair and looked back at her with an expression she couldn’t parse. Was he interested in her reaction to his most private space? He’d said he cared about her opinions this afternoon, what she thought about him, about his past romantic life.
Her eyes continued to scan the room, lingering longer on the bed. She knew that there would only be one. They’d already slept in the same room together on their trip here, but sharing his bed in his personal space was an intimacy nonetheless. One for which she wasn’t entirely sure she was prepared, especially when his gaze threatened to set her aflame.
Warmth pooled low in her stomach. She rolled her neck, reminding herself this was only day one of their fake relationship. No matter how real it felt at times, she needed to get a grip.
She looked around. There wasn’t anyone here to pretend for.
Did he want her?
She’d felt their relationship growing more real by the hour, but to what end? It couldn’t be real once he knew who she was.
Before she could think too hard about it, she spoke. “Luc, we need to talk.”
He gave her a pointed but reassuring glance. “You have my undivided attention, I assure you.”
Her cheeks warmed. Had she been staring at the bed that whole time?
“I want to tell you something about me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I want to hear it.” He gestured for her to continue.
“I’m not Osten like you think I am.”
“Believe it or not, I figured that out this afternoon.” His gaze roamed her features, seeming to prepare for what she might be trying to say.
“The thing is, you’re not wrong.” She stumbled over her words. She’d never said this to anyone but her family. Arie knew. She wasn’t sure how, but he’d always seemed to know. “You’re not wrong about me being wind fae…. Well, it’s just that Osten is not my only court.”
A slow smile crept across his face as he crossed the room toward her. “Ahhh, why hadn’t I considered? Well, it’s so rare.”
She held her hands up, stopping his progress before he got too close. She had trouble thinking clearly when he got that close. “I’ve never told anyone.” She lifted her chin, daring him to judge her, to judge what mixed fae lineage meant about her family.
“Rose, you have to know.” He faltered. “I hope you know I don’t care what kind of fae you are, or how many courts you belong to.”
“How could you not? You’re the Suden Point.”
His eyes narrowed at her words. “I’m the Suden Point, yes, but I’m also an earth fae who doesn’t know anything about his father. The village where I grew up believed him to be Suden, but with some of the uniqueness of my magic, I”—he weighed his words—“can’t be sure, I guess.”
“You didn’t know him at all?”
“No. He and my mother weren’t together. They weren’t even in a relationship. In fact, some believe she was already in a relationship with Aaron’s father at the time.” He paused again. “Anyway, I’m very confident that my father doesn’t even know I exist.” He shook his head. “Sorry, this isn’t about me. This is about you. I tell you about my father so you know we have more similarities than you realize, but even if I were sure my father was Suden, I still wouldn’t care. You are amazing, Rose. You, as you are.”
Her body felt ablaze at the weight of his full attention. He was staring at her, his eyes sparkling with the light from the fire.
“Arie knows too,” she blurted out, unsure where she was going with it, but knowing she needed to get him to stop looking at her like that.
“I assumed.” He tapped his chin with his finger. “How did you and Arie meet?”
Somehow this was a much safer topic for Rose. He hadn’t pressed her on what her other fae magic was. Instead, he asked her for a little more of her story. She wanted to give it to him.
“Arie saved me,” she breathed.
She didn’t expect it to feel like such a confession, but it did. She’d never had to tell anyone about how she and Arie met.
