Page 153 of Unrivaled
La’Angi Keep
The dress was breathtaking in its smoky glory, fitted over my thighs, hips and belly like a glove and blooming over my breasts to lay comfortably across my chest and arms.In the folds of the fabric that flared from my knees, there was the occasional flash of orange.
I was a pillar of smoke from the funeral pyre.
Due to the brilliance of the Stitcher mages, I didn’t need Isolde’s help to get into it, which was fortunate as I hadn’t heard from her since this morning.I combed out my hair and left it.Without her assistance, I wasn’t fighting with ribbons and braids.In the looking glass I caught sight of the strength in my arms and felt a strange moment of pride.
Rather than set it aside, I held that feeling close.I was going to need it to get through tonight’s entertainments.I’d crafted them to minimize my own irritation.The feast had no formal seating, so I didn’t need to choose who would sit at the high table with me.Instead I could circulate.The ball would be as they always were.I’d need to entertain far too many men who’d want to dance with me.If I could get hold of the Marquis de Vennliche I was hoping I might further his idea to trade him knappchs in exchange for berries and a type of parchment his people crafted locally that sounded revolutionary.
From below, I heard a knock, and then Luca’s voice filtered up.“Can I come up?”
“No,” I said.The word tasted sweet on my tongue.
Taking my time, I enjoyed the solitude and let him wait.It occurred to me he’d spent most of the day with me.How unusual that, as my feet touched the stairs, I didn’t dread the thought of seeing him waiting for me.The stairs were difficult to navigate in the dress, but not impossible.I quite liked the way the fabric grabbed and held to my thighs.
It reminded me of Elnyta like that, and the thought of my brave captain made my heart sit lighter.
At the bottom of the stairs I found Luca, hands in his belt, looking out over the city as the day faded to dusk.He was lost in thought, one hand propped up on the wall, a faint frown on his face.His jaw-length brown hair swayed softly in the breeze.
“Solving the city’s problems?”I asked him.
He started, turning.He looked at me.Then looked at me again, his eyes wide.I felt the heat of his attention without any of the discomfort I might’ve felt in the past.When he pushed off the wall to approach me, I held my ground.
With every step he took toward me I felt my own power.
Mycity.
Myrules.
I quite liked the sensation.
“I came because I wanted to see what you were wearing,” he said.“I was hoping to match.What a foolish thought.”He touched the tip of his finger under my chin, angling my head a little.“No one can match you.”
Heat pooled in my belly, but part of me wanted to shrink away from the compliment.I grabbed it by the throat.“We’ll see, won’t we?”
A smile touched the corner of his mouth.“I already can.”
“You say that like it didn’t take you more than a decade, Luca.”
His smile vanished.“You’re right.Still, the sentiment remains.”He stepped back, his gaze roaming over me without apology or artifice.“You’re breathtaking, Audrey.”The warmth had begun to ebb, now.Before I could redirect the conversation from yet more of the same, he said, “Do you have a belt, perchance?”
Irritated, I shook my head and made my way to the jug of cordial.“None that work.”I’d tried.“Drink?”
“Thanking you.”His steps approached.I glanced up to see him remove the belt from his own waist.“Try it,” he insisted, at my expression.
I stayed still, cup in each hand, as he reached around me.His breath against my ear was warm as I was momentarily wrapped wholly in his arms.The smell of him, old books and fine spices and something warm and homey beneath it, was surprisingly enjoyable.I breathed in as the chains of the belt settled over my hips.Just the slightest turn of my head let my nose brush against the softness of his hair.
The links tightened, then settled.His hands splayed over my hips.
I breathed him in, and warmth unfurled in my limbs like flowers blooming in spring.
He lingered, his face so close to mine.“Go and look,” he told me.The words were low, promising more.That I was intrigued shocked me.“Mayhap I can’t match you, but I can complement you yet, my lady of La’Angi.”
My throat went dry.I didn’t want compliments.But when I stepped back and glanced down, I knew I wouldn’t need to go and check the looking glass.The chain that had fit him neatly dangled, a little longer on me.The silver links would sway when I walked.It was smoky, not bright, thick chains with delicate patterns engraved upon them that were masculine and also…
Surprisingly elegant.Not what I’d wanted, the weight was…unexpectedly lovely.
I handed him a cup, enjoying the way he was looking at me.“Will your pants fall down while we dance, Luca?”
