Page 59 of Taste of Thorns
“For starters, I doubt that is allowed. Madame gave me a lecture about students having to sleep in their own rooms.”
“Bullshit,” he mumbles.
“She did!”
“No, I mean that rule is bullshit. You ever seen it written down anywhere?”
“I guess not, but I wasn’t exactly looking.”
“She just likes to mess with your head.” His arms tighten around me. “What were the other reasons?”
“Everyone in this academy hates me. Imagine how much that’s going to intensify when I get to move into some luxurious tower.”
“We’ve established that we don’t give a fuck what everyone else thinks, remember?”
I roll my eyes. It’s easy for him to say. It wasn’t just that one attack by Odessa and her groupies that I endured while Beaufort and the other Princes were away fighting demons. There was all this subtle stuff too; people accidentally barging into me, or elbowing me, or tripping me up.
This thing with the last trial may have changed some people’s minds. Moving into the Princes’ tower could undo all that good work.
“Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way–”
“Oh stars,” I say, “that does not sound good.”
“Just hear me out.”
“Okay,” I say, praying he doesn’t say something that’s going to have us arguing as usual because this right now is nice; really, really nice.
“Have you tried being a little more friendly to other people?”
“Wh … what do you mean? I’m friendly. I have two friends.” Which, I don’t tell him, is more than I’ve had in a long long time.
“Yeah, you’re friendly to your friends, I see that. And occasionally you’re friendly to me,” he nibbles at my ear, “for example when you let me put my fingers in your ass.” I poke him again. “But a lot of the time you walk around this academy with a scowl on your face.” I go to protest but he gets there first. “Iunderstand why that is, little thrall. You’ve had it tough – a lot tougher than most of the kids here. People haven’t always been kind to you. But, you see how it is with Dray – everyone fucking loves him despite the fact he is probably a psychopath. That’s because he’s friendly.”
“Hmmm, I guess you could be right.”
“It has been known to happen occasionally.”
I’m silent and he rubs his palm up and down my back. “You okay?”
“Uh huh,” I say.
“So, any other reasons you can’t move in,” he says, “because I’m struggling to think of a good reason why you shouldn’t be in my bed every night.”
As good as that sounds, I know myself. I need my space. Somewhere I can call my own. “This room may be the worst at the academy,” I tell him, “but I’ve never had a room of my own before. I wouldn’t want to give that up – even for you Beaufort Lincoln.” I poke him in the ribs.
“Briony,” he says, lifting his head and peering down at me, “didn’t your little snooping take you up to the fifth floor of our tower?”
“Erm, no,” I say. “I got caught on the fourth floor by this real asshole.”
“Ahh,” he says, “then there is something that asshole needs to show you.”
He drags me out of bed and into some clothes. But when I go to put on my jacket, he sniffs at it and wraps me in his own, despite me protesting all the way to his tower that he must be freezing and should take it back.
“Look at you, you’re tiny. There’s nothing to you,” he says. “I have insulation.”
“All those muscles,” I tease.
“I think you like those muscles, sweetheart,” he says, hooking his arm around my waist and snuggling his mouth into my neck.
