He chuckled softly, and the lightheartedness of it was just so… refreshing. And God, he looked good.
“So, um… what are you wearing?” I asked, trying to conceal my lingering gaze.
“Oh. This is my full ceremonial armor. Tonight is the SkyGuard performance,” he explained.
I blinked a couple times and stared at him blankly. “Right— you don’t know what that is. It’s an annual display for the High Lord and our citizens to showcase the strength and skill of our dragon army. It’s a mix of synchronized stunts and aerial acrobatics. You’ll be able to watch from the castle balcony, where a great feast will be held.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to meet with them soon. And—as much as I love the visual of you in my bed, you should get ready. It’s a formal event,” he added politely.
A flood of heat rushed over me—heat I should not have been feeling. No matter how much he liked seeing me in his bed… no matter how much I didn’t hate being in it.
What was wrong with me!
I nodded, gulped, and then asked, “Could you show me where Calpurnia’s room is first?”
I tried to steer the conversation away from my lustrous thoughts. Plus, I really did need to speak with her.
“Sure. It’s on the way, My Lady,” he replied in a chivalrous manner.
He held out his arm and linked it with mine, as if I were a queen and he my knight in shining armor—no, not a knight. A king of dragons.
When we arrived at the servants’ corridor, he pointed at her door.
“Look for me in the skies tonight, Lady Delilah.”
Then he kissed the back of my hand and left. I watched his long crimson cape trail behind him as he went.
I’m sure if anyone saw the interaction, they would find it odd— here I was in a lumpy robe and messy hair, being handled like royalty by a fully decorated Master of Dragons.
I knocked on Calpurnia’s door, trying to steady my racing heart. I couldn’t tell if it was nerves from having to face my friend, or the very romantic mood Aurelius was in, but either way… I had to do this.
I knocked again.
“Cal, it’s me. Can we talk, please?” I asked.
Her door creaked open, and I found her lying on her bed. Her room was simple but spacious—the furniture was plain but solid, not at all what I’d expected.
I lay next to her, facing her. I took note of her red, puffy face from crying and her running makeup. I tucked a piece of her silken hair behind her pointed ear and said softly, “I’m sorry, Cal. I didn’t know.”
In her sweet, congested voice she replied, “How could you have known? I didn’t even know.” She gave me a small smile, and I gave her one back.
“Cercies is barely a friend to me—that is all. I promise. I have no interest in your mate, Cal. I swear,” I pleaded.
Her plump lips pressed together. She gave a small nod, then said, “I’m not sure I have any interest in him either.”
We let out a brief, soft giggle.
I studied my beautiful friend. How nice it was to have one again— a friend.
Hannah had moved three hours away with her husband and had a bunch of kids, so we’d drifted apart over the years, as friends in their thirties do. Cancer had made it impossible to
form new friendships. Who would’ve guessed my next best friend would be an immortal Fae?
“I know he cannot have a mate,” I said, “but you could spend some time together. Maybe you should get to know him—give him a chance before you make that decision.”
“But what if it doesn’t work out and I get hurt?” she asked meekly.
Cercies would never harm a hair on her head. That was clear now. She was referring to him breaking her heart.
“Then I’ll kill him,” I deadpanned.
