Page 138 of The Call of Crimson
“The colors of house Mordet suit you beautifully… but you still look even better out of them, love.”
Realization dawns on me, Ayden’s stiff posture suddenly making sense. “You gave him a boner, didn’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aurelius says innocently.
“Unbelievable,” I murmur.
“Is it, though?”
I give a half-hearted laugh. “Not really.”
He shrugs. “I learned my mischief from the best.”
“My father?” I surmise.
“In a way, I suppose.” Aurelius smirks. “But I was thinking of you, actually.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted right now.”
“Maybe a bit of both,” he suggests.
Our eyes meet, and for a brief moment, the world stops spinning around us. The sound fades to silence, the guests disappear, and it’s just us.
But then Ayden’s voice startles me out of my stupor, bringing reality crashing down.
“Breyla?” he calls for me, his eyes passing over us as he searches the room.
Aurelius’ hand wraps around me from behind, his arm snaking down and resting against my lower belly. Warmth pools in my core as his form presses firmly against me.
“He can’t see us, Princess.” His breath is hot against the shell of my ear. “Are you going to move your shadows and allow him a view?”
One hand trails lower as the other grasps my breast, kneading the flesh tenderly. Soft kisses pepper my jaw, his tongue trailing over my pulse point and swirling at the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder. A shudder wracks my body, goosebumps covering every inch of exposed skin.
Charlie’s voice douses the flame when she calls, “Aurelius?”
With the moment gone, I push Aurelius away, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.
I straighten my dress, ensuring my hair is in place, before releasing the shadows.
“There you are,” Ayden says, a smile lighting his handsome face.
“I just needed a moment of solitude,” I explain, returning his smile.
“Now, shall we eat?”
I nod, allowing him to lead us to the table.
We take our seats near the head of the table, and I catch the queen’s eye just briefly enough to tell me she is disappointed in my dress.
Though she says nothing, her displeasure is clear.
The first two courses pass quickly, the wine flowing freely and joyful chatter filling the space around me. By the third course, drunken laughter and light-hearted conversation are all I can hear.
“So, tell us, Prince Aurelius, might we be hearing of another royal engagement soon?” A lord whose name I do not remember asks.
I somehow manage to maintain my composure, something hot and bitter boiling inside me.
Aurelius does not. In a rare lapse of control, Aurelius chokes on his food, pure shock lining his features.
