Page 38 of #Resort Love
Steeling myself, I left my bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind me. Last night still felt too fresh for me, too raw to have the courage to face Samian this morning. To see the disappointment in his eyes, knowing what happened between Ambrose and me, my stomach dropped at the thought. I still wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or shame.
Turning to leave, something brown on the floor caught my attention. I silently cursed when I found my bag lying by my door. I had hoped Samian would have left it in the library, and now my mind was swiftly edging toward a downward spiral. Mortified, my throat tightened. If he had heard me last night, if he knew what I had done after the library, I would never recover. My blood felt cold and hot at once, and my dread of seeing him tripled.
Picking up my bag, I slung it across my body and headed to the library. The hallways were quiet, the sconces dim, giving the palace a peaceful stillness. Traversing up the stairs, I set my bag on our regular table and lit the small lamp, illuminating the area around me with a soft orange glow.
A sigh of relief left me when two servants brought up coffee, tea, and pastries. I had skipped dinner last night and my mouthwatered from the smell. Waiting for them to finish setting up the cart, I emptied my bag when an envelope fell to the table. My brows knitted when I saw my name written neatly across the front.
Picking up the envelope, I turned it over, noticing a phoenix in flames was stamped across the flap. Confused, I hesitantly opened the envelope, pulling out a letter from Samian. My face heated and I shoved the letter back into my bag, hoping the servants didn’t see.
Later.
I would read it later, when they were gone.
With the coffee set up and Samian’s usual teapot and cup readied, one of the servants poured some coffee for me, adding some cream and sugar. Thanking her, I watched while she walked to the stairs where the other servant stood waiting. My heart galloped in my chest, and as their heads disappeared from my sight, I ripped the letter out of my bag. Swallowing, I opened the letter, my hands slightly shaking, terrified of what he had written. But after reading the first few lines, a small smile formed, and my chest loosened a bit.
He apologized for pushing his opinions of Ambrose on me, for not allowing me to make out my own opinion for myself. He wrote that he knew I could make my own decisions and that he would always remain by my side, no matter what. Though he still believed I should be careful around Ambrose, it was up to me to decide Ambrose’s character and who he was to me.
Sudden and instant relief filled my chest, pushing out the nervous bundle of tension that had lodged itself in my heart.
I smiled softly, letting that wall of dread I had built through the night fall. I still felt a tiny bit awkward about what he had interrupted last night—and what he might have heardafter—but I felt more assured about facing him today and I felt more confident with my magic.
Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes, searching for the warmth of my magic that was settled deep in my chest, and let it radiate through me. My body sang, and when I opened my eyes, a small orb of light glowed above my hand, pulsing as satisfaction swelled inside me. Holding it for a moment longer, I let the light fade away before opening my book on the creatures of Nemos.
An hour passedbefore I heard footsteps making their way to me. The steps sounded slow and hesitant, which made my shoulders tense. While his letter made me feel slightly less embarrassed, I still felt a sting of awkwardness when Samian approached the table, our eyes meeting.
Samian flashed me a tight smile before reaching for the teapot and a cup. “How was the rest of your night?” His voice was wary, his eyes glued to the tea pouring from the porcelain pot.
I blinked, fighting my cringe. “It was fine,” I murmured, closing my book.
The silence grew thick and uncomfortable. Samian still kept his eyes on his cup, not daring to look at me. I stared at the table, tapping my fingers against the smooth wood.
Eventually Samian cleared his throat, and I looked at him. Both of us winced and we let out a nervous laugh. “Ah, did you get my note?” he asked quietly, looking back to his tea.
“I—um, did,” I breathed. “Thank you, you know, for what you said. It meant a lot. I did want to show you something, though.”
Samian perked up at the subject change, the stiffness between us finally easing. Moving the chair back, I stood and put my hands together. Taking a deep breath, I felt for the hum of my magic, letting it flow down my arms and into my hands. My eyes flicked to Samian; his face lit with excitement. Standing, he walked to me, examining the ball of light that floated between my hands.
He grabbed my shoulders, giving me a small shake, a laugh escaping his lips. A laugh that skittered across my skin, heating my blood. “You did it,” he uttered, pride filling his eyes. “This is amazing, Sybil. I knew you could do it once you had enough time to calm yourself.”
Giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze, I pushed back the thoughts of his hand in other places. But when Samian’s smile curved slyly, something told me that whatever was coming out of his mouth next, wouldn’t be good.
“Since you have enough control to create the ball of lightandkeep it steady, let's move on to the next step. I want you to turn that ball into an object. Let’s say,” Samian paused, his eyes roaming around the library, “a dagger. Lengthen and sharpen your light to form a dagger.”
“Samian,” I breathed, my heart lodging in my throat. “I literally just grasped how to make this light.”
“And now you’ll turn it into a dagger,” Samian smiled sweetly.
Too stunned for words, I watched him walk back to his chair, my mouth slightly open. My mind reeled; I couldn’t think of what to say or do.
A dagger.
This man really thought I would be able to make a dagger. A hard thump on the table pulled me out of my spiraling head. A sharpened dagger lay there, the steel glinting in the light.
“In case you didn’t know what one looked like,” he smirked, giving me a quick wink.
Bastard. What a damn bastard.
I could feel my cheeks turning red. “I know what they look like,” I grumbled, more to myself, but Samian’s chuckle made me hiss. Slumping into my chair, I exhaled sharply. It was already hard enough figuring out how to control my magic andnothave it explode in my face, and now he wanted me to make sharp and pointy objects with it? This was a disaster in the making.
