Of Blood and Roses

Chapter 23

Sometime after Sabine left I stood inspecting myself in the mirror. My hair had tumbled free from its updo, falling loosely in rolling waves down around me, and I still wore the dress I had worn that evening, golden with hints of red. I knew I should retire to my chambers, but there I would only continue to relive the day over and over.

I didn't need rest, I needed a distraction.

I wasn't sure when I made the conscious decision, or if I had even thought of it at all. But within moments I was slipping out my door, looking up into Darren's face.

"Ophelia," he whispered, his eyes darting around the hall. "You should be in—"

I shook my head and turned from him before he could finish. I faced the other side of the hall. Tonight a guard also sat outside the room next to mine-- Jourdon's. I walked past him, head held high. I didn't look back.

For once the halls were silent, no music playing this late into the night. I approached the guard outside Pierre's room. He eyed me with surprise.

"I would like to see Prince Pierre, is he still awake?"

The guard's gaze darted down the hall, his voice falling to a whisper. "Princess, it is late—"

"Please. If he is still asleep, I will return to my room."

The guard looked me up and down, then shook his head. His lips turned down in disgust, but he held open the door, no longer looking at me.

I brushed past him, his judgment rolling off me. The flickering light of candles lit the room within. Pierre was sprawled out on the couch in the parlor, his white shirt untied to reveal his smooth olive skin. He tilted his head lazily towards me as I entered, his eyes roving up and down my frame. Beside him sat a glass, only a small sip of wine remaining.

He rose from his reclined position, the darkness of the room molding to him. He didn't react, only tilted his head wordlessly, but his gaze said everything that needed to be said. I approached him until we were only a few inches apart. He tilted his head tilted back to look up into my face.

"It's been a while." His eyes were so dark they looked black, hardly any of the blue remaining. "I heard you attended the Queen with my brother."

There was a slight tightening around his eyes as he spoke, but he seemed0 more curious than anything else.

"I did," I confirmed. I didn't flinch at the mention of the queen. I didn't feel anything. "But I would rather not talk about that."

Pierre narrowed his eyes. "Then may I ask what brings you here at this hour?"

I paused. Why was I here? I had been so determined moments ago, feeling like I needed to see Pierre. But why? What was it that drew me to him?

I licked my lips and his gaze darted to them. He made me think of a forbidden fruit, lips still red with traces of wine, his skin smooth where it was exposed beneath his shirt. The memory of our kiss burned through me. It scorched my veins, it quieted the whispers. It made me feel something I had never felt before. A liquid heat started low in my stomach and spread through me, igniting me. As long as I could feel like this, I didn't have to feel anything else.

I stepped closer, Pierre's gaze following me behind hooded lids. I burned in every place his gaze touched me. I wasn't sure what this was. It wasn't love—not how I had dreamed it to be anyway. But it was as heady and as intoxicating as sweet wine. I moved so I was within touching distance, my skirts brushing over one of Pierre's long, outstretched legs.

"A distraction."

There was a flicker in Pierre's gaze. He rose, slowly, focusing on me as he leaned closer. He arched one thick dark brow under the untamed mess of black waves around his face. He didn't seem surprised.