Page 119 of Cerulean Truth
“You know what we should do?” she said, mischief lacing her voice.
I squinted, trying to hide my smile at her sudden enthusiasm. “What?”
“You happen to have any cigars?” she asked, catching me off guard.
My eyes widened in surprise.
“Scotch, steak and cigars? Really?” I asked pleasantly taken by how she had just listed three of my favorite things.
“Absolutely! There’s no better combination.”
Couldn’t argue with that.
"I'll do you one even better," I said, rising from the bar.
"Upstairs, there's a private rooftop terrace with an unobstructed view of Cyclos. I know you're not the biggest fan of heights, but we could enjoy our smoky dessert up there?"
Her eyes lit up and her lips curled in delight. And I instantly realized I would kill actual people to make her smile like that again.
"I'd love that," she responded softly, her tone carrying a hint of excitement. She hopped off the stool effortlessly and strolled into the kitchen like she owned the place, clearing off the plates and stacking them in the sink without a second thought. Grabbing the almost half-finished bottle of Scotch, she scanned the loft eagerly, her gaze flickering over every corner as if she were on a treasure hunt.
"What are you looking for?" I asked, suppressing an amused smile.
"Something to keep us warm?" she suggested. Right. The bubble. Not like we could conjure up a cozy little fire. Or something less obviously romantic.
I quickly made my way to the cupboard and took out two blankets.
"Will these do?"
She nodded, taking our glasses in one hand. "Absolutely."
"Through there," I gestured towards the concealed door in my hallway, leading up to a small staircase, invisible to anyone who didn’t know what to look for. As she headed in that direction, I hesitated, not wanting to risk our fragile truce. But…
"Emma," I called out, catching her attention.
She turned around, her eyes questioning mine.
"If we’re on the roof and notice anything off…"
"I’ll do exactly as you say without further argument,” she promised, shocking me with her lack of stubbornness.
I blinked. “Damn woman, if I had known steak made you so docile, I would’ve fed you a long time ago.”
She laughed and I almost joined her.
It took us but a few minutes to reach my favorite spot in the whole Collective. Inspired by the rooftop fun I used to have with the boys at the Spring Palace, I had insisted on having exclusive use of the Winter’s Palace’s roof when I accepted the role of Leader of Cyclos. Luckily, the Maumars agreed and convinced the Council I’d needed the space.
The rooftop was completely empty—no chairs, couches, tables, or anything to sit on—just a bare, dirty surface. I preferred it this way since I could always translate whatever I needed. But Emma was completely undeterred by the less-than-comfortable seating situation and put down a blanket to sit on. I frowned, confused about what she was doing, until she drapedhalf of the second blanket around her shoulders and held out the other half.
“You mind sharing one?” she asked boldly.
I swallowed, feeling slightly nervous about sitting so close to her. “No. I don’t.”
James Walker, First Offensive, killer of the masses, turned Leader of the largest Collective on the planet. Nervous to sit next to Emma Thompson on a blanket.
Emma put the two glasses before us and refilled each of them while I took out the cigars I’d brought from the loft.
“Cohiba?” she asked, pleasantly surprised.
