Page 20 of Aubade Rising
“Aubades?” I question.
He sighs, disappointed. “Does it matter?”
I shrug. I guess not. He can associate with whomever he chooses, I suppose. I’d rather be alone here in the tavern than in the palace. “You can leave me here. I don’t need a babysitter.” Immediately I regret the bitterness in my tone. It’s not his fault I don’t have any friends in the city. I made that choice when I picked studying over socialising and then left for a decade without keeping in touch. Now I have no one to turn to when loneliness creeps in.
He pauses, studying me carefully over the rim of his empty glass. His eyes, so like mine, the palest grey, fix me with a stare that has me shifting in my seat.
“You can come, as long as you promise not to report back to the palace.” Cedar’s mouth is firm, tone authoritative. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him act like a bossy older brother before.
Intrigued, I smile sweetly and agree.
The establishment he takes me to next couldn’t be further from the tavern where we started our night. This one is salubrious and polished. The tables, well-oiled and shiny, not pock-marked from wet glassware rims, are arranged around a central stage. Golden light spills from painted glass lampshades, cloaking the room and leaving the bar at the back in shadows.
Despite the crush of bodies squeezed round the tables, there’s no foul-smelling body odour, but a heady mix of perfumes. Cedar finds us two seats at the edge of one of the tables and abandons me with a drink as he greets his companions. They greet me with looks of surprise before dismissing me entirely in favour of a hushed conversation with Cedar. He’s relaxed though, even if they are not. Soon, they settle next to us, ignoring me completely.
I decide to leave, uncomfortable with the unwanted stares and lack of conversation but the lights dim and a hush descends. The room becomes so dark, I have to strain to see the outline of our companions before a spotlight illuminates the stage and the curtains open.
Howl sits on a stool, eyes closed. I gasp loudly, causing a disapproving murmuring to ripple through the crowd. Suitably admonished, I remain silent but confused and then he starts to sing.
His voice is heady, intoxicating and everyone in the room is mesmerised. He coaxes the melody out. When I hear it, the rest of the room disappears. He sings of love, of loss, of the dangers of ambition and the temptation of power. I find myself clenching my hands into fists as he reaches a crescendo of one song, only to be soothed by the lullaby that follows. Each song is different. He sings the first thing that comes to mind but the crowd doesn’t care; all we want is for him to never stop singing.
Howl closes his set to a standing ovation, and I wipe my eyes as the lights flicker back on and the next performer takes over. I don’t notice him slide off the stool and make his way to our table until I hear him exclaim, “Sage? What are you doing here?”
“You know my sister?” Cedar interrupts, swaying away from him.
“Oh! What a coincidence.” Howl stumbles, coughing, and recovers himself, turning back to my brother. He couldn’t be further from the confident polished Mordros I visited a few weeks ago. “We’re vaguely acquainted.” He smiles weakly, as if he needs me to intervene but I don’t really know what else to add.
Cedar blanches, downing the rest of his drink, slamming the glass hard on the table. “Of course, you are. Absolutely bloody typical. Excuse me, I need some air.” He turns from the table, face flushed red.
“Cedar, wait!” Howl rushes after my brother’s shadow as he strides towards the exit.
I remain behind, a blush warms my cheeks at the scene I’ve inadvertently caused. Mumblings and stares continue to be directed at me from the other tables after the pair leave to sort out their quarrel. I glance round the room until my gaze locks on the hard, caramel eyes of Captain Devath. He leans against the bar, his face stony. Even across the room, I can sense the rigid fix of his muscles when our eyes meet. This is not good news.
Chapter 19
Some part of me knows it’s futile but I can’t help struggling against his firm grip as he pulls me from the bar, into the street, his companion at the bar abandoned. Heavy rain soaks the ground and splatters on my face as he tilts it towards him.
“Why on earth can’t you do as you’re told!” His voice slices through the raindrops, vicious and sharp.
“Leave me alone. I don’t need protection, especially not from you.”
“Why do you have such a problem with me keeping you safe?” He continues to hold my face, fixing me in place as the rain rolls down his sharp cheekbones.
“Safe? You don’t want to keep me safe! You think if I leave your sight for one minute then I’ll join the rebellion. You don’t trust me.”
“I told you, it’s not just about trust,” he snaps back.
“I don’t need some rude, aristocratic arsehole monitoring my every move. I’m fine on my own.” I spit venomously, my loneliness biting back. Howl and Cedar stop their argument a few feet away and Cedar looks at me with concern. I shake my head, not wanting him to intervene and he turns back to Howl who starts gesticulating wildly at him again.
“You’re coming with me now.” His hand is firm as he pulls me along, gripping my forearm.
Unless I want a nasty bruise, I’m going to have to go with him. Something tells me if I broke free, he’d track me down anyway. “No need to be so nasty.” The anger continues to bubble in my chest, and I suppress the tears that form.
“I’m not being nasty or rude. Come to think of it, I’m tryingto look out for you. And Howl for that matter. Neither of you has any business being in that place. It’s teeming with rebel sympathisers.”
I freeze, the realisation that I nearly handed myself to the rebels hits me like a violent winter wind.
“I didn’t know,” a chill prickles up my neck.
