Page 131 of The Call of Crimson
“Stop flirting.” She laughed, swatting my chest playfully.
“I’m just complimenting my queen. If I wanted to flirt, I’d be much more obvious about it,” I said bluntly.
She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Thank the gods for that.”
Before the door opened, I pulled her into a hug. “You’re the bravest female I know, Gen.”
“I’m filled with terror and anxiety, Aurelius,” she admitted softly.
“Bravery isn’t the absence of fear—it’s persevering despite it.”
“I tire of persevering,” she sighed.
“Then let me carry you for a while,” I offered.
“It’s a deal.” She smiled half-heartedly.
“Are you ready to put on a show for your kingdom?”
“No, but let’s give them one hell of a show anyway.”
“That’s the spirit.”
I grasped her hand, leading her into the ballroom.
I blink rapidly, my focus returning to the present.
The blue of Gen’s eyes fades back to green, the freckles dancing against Breyla’s pale skin.
Suddenly, she doesn’t look like Genevieve at all.
The gold washes her out even more, making her look sickly. The cut of the dress isn’t flattering on her like it was on Gen’s lean frame.
But the court swoons, praising her perfection.
Only I see the truth.
“Gold doesn’t suit you,” I say flatly.
The queen scoffs, offended by my assessment.
But Breyla, gods, she looks relieved.
“She looks stunning,” Queen Josephina insists
“Perhaps I could try on the black,” Breyla ventures carefully.
“Why would you?” the queen trills. “The gold is perfect. It will pair splendidly with Prince Ayden’s attire.”
“I really—” Breyla starts, hope lighting her voice.
Ayden squeezes her hand, cutting her off.
To the rest, it might look like reassurance, but I know it’s to remind her of their bargain.
“—love the gold,” Breyla grits out, a faux smile plastered on her face.
Watching Breyla bite her tongue and resist the urge to be her authentic self incites an anger and pain I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.
