Kieran turned and started for the mess hall. Behind him, he could hear their shared whispers.
“I hate when he does that,” Sera said.
“Get used to it,” Willa murmured back. Then he heard Sera’s steps catching up to him. Once she was in line with him he picked up his pace. Kieran sensed her fidgeting, sparing her a glance every few moments. She was bursting to say something, so he stopped.
“What is it?”
“Can I see inside the Spire?” she asked in a flustered rush.
This again. It was just a building. He was hungry. Annoyed. He should tell her no. But then, it was hard to meet Seraphina Blair’s eyes and deny her. “This way.”
Her excited squeal and little, bounding steps should not have filled him with warmth. He was not indulging her for her happiness, but for his sanity. She would never have let it go if he resisted, so it was best to get it out of the way now. If it made her happy, well, there was nothing he could do about it.
The door to the Spire wasn’t locked, as inside was nothing more than an auditorium. Most of the building was plain and empty. The dual staircases spiraling toward the top looked impressive at first, he supposed, but their only purpose was for maintenance and cleaning. There were no views or windows up there and no one except service workers even bothered to climb them. It was blessedly cold, though. A chill of cooler air from the higher elevation blew through narrow slatted openings designed to allow airflow but keep out animals and rain.
Sera sprinted to the center of the main chamber, a sunken dais surrounded by the tiered rows of seating. Craning her head, she stared up into the towering ceiling and started to spin, arms outstretched. The lanterns were off, the only light was from the glow of lumenore—a natural, glossy stone-like formation from the Wilds. They would glow eternally, without need of fuel.
Kieran lingered by the door, allowing her the time to enjoy herself. Sera found joy so easily. In such a mundane thing. He observed while he waited, noting how she explored with wide, curious eyes.
She dashed to the staircase on the left, parallel to the other set along the smooth walls and started up them. He worried she wished to go up the hundred-something steps and leave him starving at the bottom. He’d have to wait for her, since she stilldidn’t have clearance or know her way around. She stopped after only a dozen or so steps.Thank gods.
Sera leaned over the railing, angling her head to view down into the chamber. Kieran’s eyes went wide, his gaze snapping over her shoulder. The shadow was still a translucent mass, though his heart had leapt into his throat until he was assured she wouldn't fall to her death. He doubted he could have reached her in time to break her fall.
“The design of this place is incredible.” She yelled so her voice echoed off the walls and then chased her words with laughter. The lilting melody bounced off the stone all the way to his chest.
She yelled out nonsense, displaying obvious amusement at the resulting echo of garbled noise.
Kieran had not expected such a pure display of wonder. Not from the seasoned vixen who drew her foot up his leg or beckoned with her eyes at every turn.
Sera raced back down the stairs, bounding up to him. “You try,” she instructed, breathless and the cream of her cheeks flushed to a becoming pink.
“No, thank you.” He would not succumb to her charm. It was in her best interest that he remain indifferent.
However, Sera wasn’t satisfied with his answer. She took his arm—thankfully, he felt nothing through the armor of his coat sleeve—and led him to the top railing along the tiered seating. The chamber opened below them as she hooked her arm through his. Her chest heaved with elation and he couldn’t help wondering if she chose such a dress for moments like this, when the sight of her might incite temptation. The tactic wasn’t necessary. The sincere mirth in her raven eyes ensnared readily enough.
“Come now, it feels good. I know there’s all sorts of repressed shit bottled up in there.” She let him go and turned to face him,with her back to the railing so she could lean on it while she pointed to his chest. “Let it out.”
She did not know what she was asking. However, he wanted this entire interlude to end. He tilted his head, so his eyes remained on her while he firmly said to the room, “No.”
Sera frowned as the single, low note dropped to silence. Kieran glanced out at the chamber. She had sent sound ricocheting off the walls. His attempt was rather pathetic in contrast. That had been his intent and yet, why did his pitiful echo leave him dissatisfied?
He was silently reflecting on this when she spoke.
“Your coworkers don’t like you,” Sera offered, unhelpfully. “They think you’re cold and rude.”
This was not news. “And?”
“And I think they’re wrong.”
His full attention returned to her, drawn to her tone and elusive gaze. What was she playing at? Was she trying to pay him a compliment? Seemed unlikely.
She slid along the railing, forcing his hands to retreat or risk collision with her hips. Sera seized his reaction to weasel between him and the railing. Ah. The Game.
The intent was to prompt a visible reaction from him through physical stimulation. He would not lose easily, even to someone as beautiful as Sera.
If he retreated, if he took a step back to allow space between them, then he would lose. Perhaps he should. If he lost, then her Game would end. Which was the wiser, more reasoned course.
He felt every muscle, every nuanced twitch in the nothing between them. He did not retreat. Not because he was particularly competitive; strategic loss was often necessary for the desired outcome. Retreat was the logical, prudent choice, but he let time pass and draw on for far too long for the singular chance that he might feel her skin beneath his again.
