In the two weeks since Daemon walked out of her life—again—Auraelia spent her free time doing anything, and everything, to drown the ache in her chest.
She threw herself into endless council meetings and trained harder than she ever had with Ser Aeron, but nothing was helping. Nothing masked the pain that came when she saw his eyes. Saw the anguish that stared back at her before he walked away again.
So, she’d decided to try something else.
As she sidled up to the bar inside Madame Sylvie’s, Vee’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.
“What are you doing here? Did you have a meeting tonight?” Vee whispered nervously, her eyes a constant swivel as Auraeliasat on one of the worn leather stools. Undoubtedly, she was looking for her usual companions.
“Calm down, Vee. I’m just here for a drink and a distraction.”
“No one—”
“No, Vee. No one is with me. Now, would you please pour me a drink?”
Vee’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though her eyes still held a sliver of worry in their icy blue depths. “What kind of distraction are you after, girl?” she asked, her brows raising slightly as she poured Auraelia’s favorite honey whiskey into a tumbler and slid it across the bar.
Auraelia took a long swig from the glass before setting it back down and shrugged. “Anything will work, really. I’m not picky…” Auraelia let her eyes wander to the women who roamed the floor and the sheer gowns that trailed behind them, reminding her of Daemon’s shadows.
She wasn’t lying.
She would be perfectly content sitting at the bar drowning her sorrows, but she’d be just as fine following the gentle sway of hips into a dark room.
She’d been with women before and usually preferred it, especially since most of the males she’d been with were more interested in chasing their pleasure than tending to hers.
But that wasbefore.
Before moss green eyes with twin suns burned their way into her soul.
Before calloused hands and pillowy soft lips marked her body.
Before Daemon, and the way that their souls called to one another.
She hadn’t been with anyone since him. Hadn’t wanted to.
But tonight? Grief was a cruel bitch that chilled you to the bone, and being wrapped in the warmth of another was astempting as letting herself drown in the never-ending torment that plagued her soul.
Vee watched Auraelia through an intent, narrow gaze, then rolled her eyes and pulled a step stool from where it had been tucked behind the counter. Climbing to the top step, she stood on her tiptoes as she reached behind the liquors on the highest shelf and pulled down a dusty, cobweb-coated, brown bottle.
Vee blew off the dirt, coughing as her feet returned to the floor. “Come on.” She jerked her head to one of the girls walking around the floor, a silent indication to watch the bar while the Madame tended to other business.
Auraelia slid off her stool and followed the petite woman down the hall that led to her office. When they reached the door, she blanched as the memories of the last time she’d been there tumbled through her mind.
Vee’s voice filtered out into the hall, “You coming or are you going to stand like a statue in the hallway all night?”
Steeling her spine, Auraelia stepped over the threshold.
The following morning was torture.
Her head throbbed in her skull, and her body ached.
What the hell happened last night?
Auraelia gingerly sat up, rubbing her jaw as she cracked her eyes.
She was in her suite, still fully clothed in her tunic and trousers from the night before. But the faint scent of clove and cinnamon clung to the fabric.
Oh, fuck.
