Page 8 of Bound
And though it pains me to lie to my kin, this is not the first time I have done so.
Bran’s long fingers brush my waist length honey hair behind my ear. Sila left it down in a sheet of silken strands around my body. The color is luminous next to my dress. And Bran seemed pleased when I descended the stairs this morning.
“I am sorry, sister, that the human technology is ailing you,” he says softly. The striking triple lines of his irises track over my face as he cups my cheek, one ring of lilac, one of lavender, and one a violet so dark it mimics the night sky outside. “Jarrah assures me that the …” his mouth purses, “colonyhouse is surrounded by forest and open fields. You will be free from the press of steel during the trial.”
I duck my head. “Thank you, brother.”
His touch firms. “You have no reason to thank me, Amoret. You know I will always watch over you.” He takes the glass from my hand and replaces it on the sideboard. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, brother. I do.”
He drops his forehead to mine in a simple Fae gesture of affection. “Good.” Pulling back, he attempts a smile. “The colony house is sending an emissary to greet us. Why don’t you allow Sila to freshen you up before they arrive?”
Nodding, I let him lead me from the bedroom and to my maid’s waiting hold.
Sila’s fingers are cooler than Bran’s. Smaller. But no less familiar.
The rest of our party has dispersed save for the guards. They still ring the large windows as Sila and I ascend the stairs to the second floor. From the landing, the size of the suite seems to double. All the glimmering steel, flickering flame, and large windows are a human mix of masculinity. Grandeur.
I miss the towers of the Sith. The gardens.
My sigh is heavy as Sila steers me into my room.
Though the suite is far from my taste, Bran picked my room himself, and the choice is hard for me to dislike.
The walls are white stone, reminiscent of the White Tower, and their expanses are bedecked in three beautiful paintings of lilies. A large bed, covered in a thick down comforter, takes up one wall across from another bank of windows. But these windows offer a view not of the city, but the distant ocean. It glimmers under the fading sunlight, like a million diamonds scattered over a turbulent sapphire blanket.
“If it was not for the press of so much electricity,” I murmur as my reflection fills the glass, “This would not be so bad.”
Sila chuckles behind me. “My lady, the humans would not be so bad either.”
Her words ring an undignified snort from me as I turn. “Sila.”
Her smile broadens. “I admit, some of the books on the plane here could change my opinion. Many of the humans are even more lovely than the Folk. And the Councilman was fair.”
I cross my arms. “For a human.”
She ambles over to the wide closet and disappears inside. “The humans in their movies could change that opinion ofyours, Amoret,” she calls back.
“The male Fae are graceful and powerful,” I tell her.
Sila appears in the doorway, a lavender gown in her hands. Mischievous light illuminates her simple brown eyes. “So why have you not bedded one, lass?”
My cheeks scald. “That—That is because my duty is to my brother. Not seeking to wed.”
“Who said anything about wedding?” I tense. She steps toward me and tosses my gown on the bed. Her hands grip mine. “You are young and beautiful, Amoret. There are many who would merely enjoy your company. Your wit. Why do you deprive yourself of something so pure? So natural?”
Because there has been no one that I wanted.
The words hover on my tongue, but I bite my cheek to keep them in check.
The Sith is vast and our numbers many. But none have created the warmth that Wena speaks of with her suitors. There is no passion. No desire.
Not since …
I shove the pain filled thought deep, deep down.
Lifting my head, I meet Sila’s steady gaze. “I deny myself nothing, Sila. For there is nothing to deny.” My eyes shift past her to the empty, unused bed. “Nothing at all.”
