Page 57
Desperate Choices
The applause abruptly ended as Lucan and his new courtesan slipped through the towering throne room doors. As the wood embossed with a flaming sun groaned to a close, he breathed in deeply, finally able to truly enjoy Eliyn’s faint but dazzlingly intoxicating aroma.
She truly came, he thought to himself. Something dangerously akin to happiness swelled within his chest.
In the absence of the jubilant strings and murmured conversations, the quiet of their footsteps over the marble floors seemed deafeningly loud. Witchlights drifted overhead, bobbing like pale, faded suns in an ocean of black. Halos spread across the vaulted corridors while moonlight spilled in through tall, arched windows overlooking the inner gardens.
Lucan kept his hand on the small of Eliyn’s back.
“Your Highness.”
A voice drifted from a side corridor, a gaunt vampire with a half-burnt face appearing behind it—one of the elder lords, his deep crimson robes emblazoned with ravens rustling over the floor as he bowed.
“The council from Ravenholm has requested a final audience before dawn.”
“Tomorrow.”
Lucan had little intention of waiting to taste the masked stranger presented as Anileta’s final gift.
“My prince, this matter has already been delayed by several days! The countess failed to show—”
A black shadow formed into a hand that wrapped itself around the lord’s throat. “I said, tomorrow.”
Gasping, the lord merely nodded his head as he collapsed to one knee. Lucan continued down the corridor without another glance back. Beside him, Eliyn snickered.
She offered no conversation as they walked. Most new courtesans filled the silence with idle chatter and nervous laughter. Questions and flattery, attempts to prove their worth, or even quiet sobs.
Instead, her attention wandered. Her pale crimson eyes lingered at each branching corridor. She glanced upward at the ceiling as if studying the cobwebs lurking in the recesses. Once, she looked over her shoulder, eyes flashing at the sight of a portrait of Aurelion.
“You are a thoughtful creature, aren’t you, pet?”
Eliyn lifted her gaze, chin tilted as if in defiance.
“The mind enjoys pleasure, too, does it not?” A demure smile spread across her lips.
“Indeed it does. Perhaps you will be more than merely a pet, Eliyn.”
At that, she laughed. What an unusual woman. Lucan’s mouth watered at the thought of how sweet she would taste upon his lips.
They turned another corner and disappeared into the western wing of the palace.
The suffocating stench of lavender and roses finally retreated. The gaudy corridors gave way to simple elegance. Carved black stone replaced the gold-foiled marble walls. Winding vines with bright yellow flowers decorated the arched windows. Soon, the gentle scent of jasmine that Lucan so loved filled the air. With each step closer to his chambers, he felt the tension in his shoulders melting.
Even Eliyn seemed to breathe easier.
His pace slowed; so did hers.
He took a breath; so did she.
He smiled at her, and she looked at him as if he were her entire world.
A servant flattened herself against the wall as they approached, head bowed so deeply that her forehead nearly touched the marble.
“My prince.”
Lucan acknowledged her with the slightest nod. Only once they had passed did he speak again.
“The masquerade disappointed you.”
