At seven that evening,I go to meet Dorian for our scheduled date, this time in the church’s library, a room I’ve never been to. Initiate Jeremy leads me and Podaxis—once again acting as my chaperone—to a pair of doors at the end of a hall. Jeremy opens them and ushers us inside before closing them behind us. The library is hardly worthy of its name, more like a small dusty room that smells of stale paper. There are four rows of bookshelves that appear to be full of nothing but religious texts on one side of the room, and a sitting area on the other. That’s where I find Dorian, standing before a chair with his hands behind his back. I meet his gaze and find nothing in his expression. He’s back to wearing that cold, emotionless mask, one reflected in his tense posture and the upward tilt of his chin.
Even so, I can’t look at him without immediately thinking of how we awoke this morning. His body pressed behind mine. His breath caressing the back of my neck. His hand skating up my stomach…
My breath hitches, but I do my best to compose myself while Podaxis scuttles over to the books. With a deep breath, I head for Dorian.
“Your Highness,” he says in a painfully formal tone, “how nice to see you this evening. Glint McCreedy will be in shortly—”
“No,” I say as I stride up to him with my head held high. “We’re not doing this. I want to reschedule.”
Surprise shatters his stoic features. He pulls his head back. “Excuse me?”
“I want to reschedule our date for after tonight’s Blessing Ceremony.”
He scoffs. “How do you know you won’t be going home after the ceremony?”
“Because you will very badly want to attend tonight’s rendezvous.”
“I doubt that.”
With a smirk, I reach into my skirt pocket and extract two tickets. I hold them before his face.
His eyes widen as he reads the titles. “Emmet versus Hastings. You have tickets to tonight’s match?” He tries to grab one, but I pull them away and tuck them back in my pocket.
“I do, and the match is now sold out. If you want to go, you’ll go with me.” It was a gamble to assume he isn’t already going. Based on the music hall he chose to frequent last night, I’m willing to bet he’s partial to less populated haunts. A smart move for someone sneaking away from the safety of his sanctuary.
He eyes me through slitted lids. “Are you bribing me into not sending you home tonight?”
I take a step closer and let fury shine in my eyes. “No, I’m giving you a chance to make it up to me for how you treated me this morning. I didn’t have to help you last night, you know. You would have fallen down the stairs and broken your neck if it weren’t for me.”
His expression softens for a fraction of a second before turning back to suspicion. “I’m supposed to make it up to you by accompanying you to a boxing match? Do you even like boxing?”
I give a flippant shrug. “I heard it’s a very important match. You might also recall what I told you about liking muscles.” My lips pull into a grin as I flutter my lashes. It’s then I realize—with awe and terror—that I’m flirting.Flirting. I didn’t know I could do that.
He tucks a corner of his lip between his teeth, and I can tell he’s considering my offer. His shoulders drop, some of the tenseness leaving his posture, but his next words are tangled with regret. “I’m not supposed to leave the church.”
I lower my voice. “That hasn’t stopped you before. You said you’ve gone to Club Scorpius five nights in a row. The match is at midnight. You’ll be able to sneak out.”
He looks to the side, eyes unfocused, then begins to tap his foot. “I can’t be seen. You, more than anyone, should know why.”
“No one will recognize you,” I whisper. “Wear casual clothes like you did last night. Don a hat.”
He chews his lip again, eyes locked on my pocket. Then he releases a resigned groan. “Seven hells, why did it have to be Emmet versus Hastings?”
“Will you go then?” I ask with a hopeful smile.
“Fine,” he says. Then his eyes meet mine, and I feel trapped in his gaze. His next words come out soft. “I still can’t figure you out.”
“What do you mean?”
For a while he says nothing, just looks at me. Then he shrugs, his expression once again cold. “I don’t know. I just can’t stop wondering whether you’re an ally or my enemy.”
My stomach bottoms out but I try to play off his words with a casual laugh. “What makes you think I’m your enemy?”
“Your request to reschedule our date is accepted,” he says, ignoring my question completely. “I’ll meet you outside the arena.” With that, he gives me a dismissive bow.
I give him a curt nod. “Good evening then.” Without another word, I turn on my heel and leave the library, Podaxis following hard on my heels. We don’t speak again until we reach my room and close the door.
“That went well,” Podaxis says.
