Tristan followed shortly behind, grunting against her neck as he spent himself inside her. He made to roll away, but she pulled him closer. Wanted his weight and warmth on top of her for as long as possible. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, stroking his feathers.
“I choose you, too, Tristan,” she whispered into his ear.
“Naturally.”
She laughed into his hair, his cock still buried inside her.
They stayed that way—joined in every way possible—until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Xenia’s heart thundered in her chest as she stood outside Elodie’s room clutching the small tin key.
Cael had already informed Xenia that Elodie would be down in Diachre all day for her final dress fitting. And Xenia had seen Elodie leaving the lodge this morning after she’d laid into Mistress Ostere in the foyer, yelling about the thieving household staff and a missing key that had magically turned up at dinner two nights ago. Demanding thatno onego into her room until after the wedding.
Xenia had watched from around the corner, smirking. Mistress Ostere assured Elodie that the staff would never dare steal any of her belongings. That perhaps Elodie herself had left the key in her dinner dress and not realized it? And was shesureshe didn’t want her room cleaned?
From the clipped tone, Xenia knew Mistress Ostere was hinting at Elodie’s perpetual messiness.
Elodie had been about to strike the woman before Erik strode in. He’d warned that Elodie would miss her appointment if she didn’t leave soon, then swept her through the front door. Xenia could’ve sworn he’d winked at Mistress Ostere over his shoulder on the way out. The head of the household staff, believing herselfalone, had shuffled up the stairs mutteringSlovenly, cold-hearted bitch.
Xenia had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. She’d untucked herself from her hiding place and slipped up to Elodie’s room, excitement and fear warring in her chest.
Excitement, because she was about to find out what was in that box. And fear, because she was about to find out what was in that box.
She opened the door to find the room just as filthy as the first time she’d been here. Maybe more so.
Dresses and slippers and undergarments were strewn across every surface, as if the closet had spit out its contents. The bedsheets were crumpled, the pillows scattered, and every single drawer hung open and askew.
Xenia snickered, imagining an Elodie whirlwind tearing through this room two days ago, searching for the key her very ownfiancéhad stolen.
Worry cinched Xenia’s gut as she padded to the closet. What if the box wasn’t there? What if Elodie had gotten spooked and hidden it somewhere else?
She knelt down, loosing a relieved sigh when she found the box tucked into the back corner. She pulled it into her lap, then fitted the key into the lock.
The latch gave with a satisfying click, and the lid popped open.
Confusion wrinkled Xenia’s brow.
The box was filled with small vials, maybe twenty in total. Two-thirds were empty while the rest were filled with clear liquid.
Xenia placed the box on the floor, then plucked up a full vial. The liquid was crystal clear, no flakes or particles suspendedwithin. It looked like water. But when she angled the vial, it coated the sides of the glass. Water wasn’t that viscous.
She pulled off the cork and sniffed. It was nearly odorless with a hint of bitter green at the finish.
She knew better than to taste it. The High Gods only knew what kinds of potions the Fae brewed with the enchanted flora here on the continent. For all Xenia knew, she might knock back this vial and turn into a frog.
All the adrenaline she’d felt since she’d walked into the room fled her body in a tingling rush. So disappointing. She was hoping to find something scandalous. Something unspeakable. Evidence that Elodie had a secret lover or a hidden child or was already married. Not these tiny vials of mystery liquid.
Did she dare take one? If she did, surely Elodie would notice it missing. And Xenia didn’t want to be responsible for the wrath Elodie would unleash upon the innocent staff if she did.
Perhaps she could take an empty one. There were enough in the box. Surely, Elodie wouldn’t be keeping a close count on those? She wasn’t nearly that organized.
Xenia picked up an empty vial, removed the cork, and sniffed. That same leafy bitterness lingered within. Maybe Cael would know what it was? The scent seemed distantly familiar, but Xenia couldn’t place it.
She slid the empty vial into her pocket, then relocked the wooden box and slipped it back into its hiding place.
As she stood, her gaze snagged on the gilded clock on the wall.
