“Do you know where you’re going?” I ask, an eyebrow raised as I glance at him.
“Your guard showed me before you came down.”
“His name is William.” He glances at me, one eyebrow raised. “Sorry,” I say, putting my free hand up as if in mock surrender.
“Please don’t apologize to me, Your Highness.”
“Please stop calling me that.”
He just nods in response, and I feel like this night has already gotten off to a poor start. Small talk has never been my strong suit.
I stop walking and face him. “I’m sorry. I asked you to dinner tonight because I wanted to thank you for what you did last night and apologize for having to put you in that position. That’s never happened to me before. If it weren’t for you, I’m not sure how last night would have ended.” I look up at him, and his black eyes are fixed on me. “Cally told me that you knew I was in danger and that you came running. Thank you,” I say and reach for his hands. They’re cold to the touch, but he squeezes them as soon as our hands connect.
“I wish I could take all of the credit for saving you, but my brother was the one who warned me that something was wrong,” he says.
“How did he know?” I ask him, still holding his hands.
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure. I was getting ready for bed when he rushed into my room. He looked panicked and just kept repeating that something was wrong. We both ran to the castle as fast as we could. Your gu—William—wouldn’t let us up to get to you, but Elle came running down the stairs looking like a madwoman, and William let me run up with her. Asmo stayed behind.”
I guess it makes sense that he didn’t come up with Marik. He probably felt embarrassed about the way he treated me last night. At least, I hope he did.
“However it happened, I’m thankful that you were there. I’m not sure how to thank you.”
He smiles and says, “Your presence is enough. I was thrilled that you asked me to dinner tonight. I must say, I was disappointed last night when dinner was cut short.”
We make our way up a set of stairs past the main kitchen, and Marik leads me down the hall, where guards are posted by each door. Marik opens the door for me, and I step into a bedroom.
Across the room, a set of French doors are open, leading onto a balcony overlooking the dark forest. A soft breeze floats through the doors, making the curtains dance. Instead of candles, the balcony is lit by soft orbs of light slowly floating in the air. Two bottles of wine rest in an ice bucket, standing by two oversized cream chairs.
“Look,” Marik whispers beside me, motioning to our left.
There’s a large stone fireplace against the wall. Beside the fireplace sits an oversized plate filled with bars of milk chocolate, plump marshmallows, and large graham crackers. I hold back a moan. S’mores were always my favorite treat growing up. Willa and I used to spend chilly evening nights roasting marshmallows in our fireplace, sharing our days with each other.
With little effort, I fire a burst of magic at the fireplace and light it. Flames erupt, sending a warm glow throughout the room. Marik gives me an appreciative nod. Lighting a fireplace like that is not something I could easily do a week ago. I already feel like I’ve come so far with my magic, and I give myself an appreciative nod, too.
His eyes catch mine, and a smile graces his face.
The fire is now burning brightly, and the reflection of the flame dances in the pools of black swimming in Marik’s eyes. It’s a frightening look, but I know he wouldn’t hurt me. He could have last night, pretending that he couldn’t break the barrier and leaving me to bleed out. Instead of scaring me, the effect entrances me, and I can’t look away. His eyes dart to my mouth. As much as I want to kiss him, I refrain from inching any closer, Koa’s warning now ringing in the back of my head.
A knock lightly raps on the door of the bedroom, but he still doesn’t look away from me. I know that if I wanted this to continue, I could ignore the knock and dismiss its owner, but I don’t want to. I break away, leaving him standing alone, facing the fireplace.
I open the door to find two females holding sterling silver trays. Steam rises from them and drifts in front of their faces. They give a brief curtsy before saying, “Dinner is served, Your Highness.”
The scent of garlic floods my nose, and I instantly salivate. They place the silver trays on a wooden table on the balcony. “Would you like us to serve you, or would you prefer to serve yourselves at your convenience? The trays are spelled to remain warm, and that will likely last about an hour if you’re not quite ready for the meal yet,” the taller female says, glancing at the untouched bottles of wine.
“We’ll take care of it. Thank you so much,” I say. They take their leave, and I motion for Marik to come join me on the balcony.
He steps outside and picks up the two bottles of wine, holding one in each hand. “Blackberry or chardonnay?” he asks me.
Seeing the blackberry option, I smile. He uncorks it before pouring us both a glass.
He takes a sip and nods his head. “This is surprisingly good. I will admit I’ve never had a blackberry wine, and I had doubts when I saw it.”
“It’s my favorite. I had never heard of it before I saw it in the kitchens here. It’s been my go-to the last week.”
“Speaking of this last week, how are you doing? I can’t imagine how difficult this has been for you,” he says, fully settling into the chair and crossing his legs. The color of the wine in his glass looks like blood.
He looks like a Prince of Hell.
