A Love From A Different World

Chapter 65

The territorial fae bullshit had irritated her to no end. Acting as if she had promised him or anyone anything. Acting as if she answered him. Acting as if she owed him anything. It was controlling and possessive and he had no right. She had been seconds away from misting him. Aelin was certain that had Rhysand not left immediately after she told him to get out, she would have set his ass on fire. She had been fuming.

Because they weren't anything. And maybe, just maybe, the smallest part of her relished in the fact that he was undoubtedly jealous.

It had been two days since then and they hadn't spoken beyond a few words when they were alone, only briefly updating each other on the progress of their mission thus far. When they were with people, however, they acted as if nothing was amiss. Rhysand kept the High Lord busy with meetings and her with flirting while Amren hunted. It was safe to say, Tarquin immensely preferred spending time with her and over Rhys.

Aelin barely looked at Rhys but felt his gaze constantly on her, especially when she was with Tarquin. She knew that it hurt him and perhaps she was cruel for being extra touchy with the male whenever Rhysand was around, and maybe she was trying to punish him for the night before. Nonetheless, she was keeping Tarquin busy and that's all that really mattered. They were always in each other's presence, their flirting and touching a constant.

The pair were currently wandering the streets and docks, and she tried not to ask too many leading questions of the people they encountered about the treasures and legends of Adriata. Scars littered the buildings, the streets, from what had been done in retaliation for their rebellion: burn marks, gouged bits of stone, entire buildings turned to rubble. The back of the castle, as Tarquin had claimed, was indeed in the middle of being repaired. Three turrets were half shattered, the tan stone charred and crumbling. Workers toiled there—and throughout the city—to fix those broken areas. Just as the people they saw—High Fae and faeries with scales and gills and long, spindly webbed fingers—all seemed to be slowly healing. There were scars and missing limbs on more than I could count. But in their eyes ... in their eyes, light gleamed. Aelin understood them, recognized the empty eyes of survivors.

Tarquin had shown her his beautiful city and it had made her homesick. It reminded Aelin of why she was there with him, why she had made a bargain with Rhysand all those weeks ago. They headed towards the palace when the sun dipped low. She told Traquin that she'd see him later, that she needed to take a bath and change. The male had leaned in close and murmured that they should take a bath together. It had been a tempting offer, there was no doubt, but Aelin gently pushed him away, winking at him as she left him standing at the entrance of his home. As she had walked away, Aelin had noticed Varian leaning against the threshold of another tower balcony, Amren standing on another one, the two staring at each other intensely.

The princess reminded herself that she did not care. That she did not have time or patience to care about Amren's romance when she was finding a way to leave them all behind.

That night, the dinner had been intimate, with only Rhysand, Amren, Tarquin, Varian, and Cresseida and her.

Varian was studying Amren as if he was trying to solve a riddle she'd posed to him, and she paid him no heed whatsoever as she debated with Cresseida about the various translations of some ancient text. Aelin and Tarquin were playfully talking about their day. Tarquin was still surprised that she had eaten the fresh fish she had bought on the docks.

"You ate it right there!" Tarquin said, lifting his brows. He looked more incredulous the more times she told the tale.

Rhys had propped his head on a fist as Aelin said, "They fried it with the other fishermen's lunches. Didn't charge me extra for it."

Tarquin let out an impressed laugh. "I can't say I've ever done that—sailor or no."

"You should," She said, meaning every word. "It was delicious."

Aelin had worn the necklace Tarquin had gifted her. Nuala- who she had learned was the name of one of the twin shadow maids, the other being called Cerridwen, had carefully placed it on her collar an hour ago. They had planned Aelin's clothes around it. They'd decided on gray—a soft, dove shade—to show off the glittering black. The princess had worn nothing else—no earrings, no bracelets, no rings. Tarquin had seemed pleased by it, even though Varian had choked when he beheld her in an heirloom of his household. Cresseida, surprisingly, had told her it suited me and it didn't fit in here, anyway. A backhanded compliment—and Aelin had naturally given one back about her choice of clothing.

"Then maybe I'll try some tomorrow," Tarquin took her hand and gave it a kiss. "If you'd be so kind to join me again, Lady."

She offered him a grin. Aelin needed to test him and had her voice as innocent as possible. "I'd like that," Aein said. "Perhaps we could go for a walk in the morning down the causeway when the tide is out. There's that little building along the way—it looks fascinating."

She had seen it when they went walking around. Tarquin had spoken to her about everything and planned on taking her everywhere. But that little building had not come up once. Their search for the Book was proving to be fruitless; Aelin had decided that it did not hurt to test out her theory. By the reaction of those at the table, Aelin was happy to know that she was right. Cresseida stopped speaking and Aelin continued. "I figure since I've seen most of the city now, I could see it on my way to visit some of the mainlands, too."

Tarquin's glance at Cresseida was all the confirmation she needed. That stone building indeed guarded what they sought.

Aelin tried to keep out the satisfaction she felt.

"It's a temple ruin," Tarquin said blandly—the lie smooth as silk. "Just mud and seaweed at this point. We've been meaning to repair it for years."

Tarquin's eyes held her —for a moment too long.

She read his face like a book; Why does she ask about the temple? Why did they want to come here so badly? Why ask about my trove?

She knew that she had to convince him otherwise they were screwed. So Aelin held his gaze, dipped her eyes down to his lips and back to his eyes, and smiled. Her meaning clear. To truly sell it, she slid her hand under the table to his thigh and raised her eyebrow, "That's too bad," Aelin bit her lower lip, seeing Tarquin swallow hard as he followed the movement. "I was hoping to have a...sacred ceremony in there...with just the two of us."

And as always, lust won against rationale and Aelin knew she had him hooked. "I suggest we find somewhere most suitable...for that sacred ceremony."

Aelin nodded towards the archway leading towards the rest of the palace and Tarquin got up quickly, still holding her hand as he led her away. Her giggling echoed in the hallway as they left the rest of their party at the table.