A Dove's Tale

Chapter 147

I ran my fingers along the worn leather spines, scanning the flaking gold titles for the right book. This section of the library found a lot of use despite its dull contents. Family records. It was easy to see which were the oldest, most well-established in Rhodolite. Families like the Michels had multiple shelves to their name, and the Lelouchs had a respectable section as well, whereas newcomers like the Dompteurs had little more than a single book. Property holdings, business dealings, connections to other families via marriage and friendship—it was all here in its driest, most boring, most unadorned form. The bare facts, and nothing more.

"The Howards," I mumbled, pulling the most recent volume bearing that name free from its neighbors. A shadow fell over the cover.

"Studying again, little dove?"

I jumped and spun to face him. "Chevalier! You—"

But then I met his mischievous blue eyes, and the scolding I intended to give him for startling me died on my tongue. He leaned over me, resting his forearm against the shelf above my head, and I didn't mind admitting how much I missed that arrogant smirk after not seeing it for a week. Especially since he wasn't due back from his extended series of inspection tours across Rhodolite for a few more days.

"Business concluded more quickly than anticipated," he said, his mind-reading skills no worse for wear after his absence.

"Good," I said, a smile spreading across my face. "Well—" My smile faltered. His last stop before returning to the palace was the Obsidianite border to meet Gilbert in-person for the first time since our engagement ceremony two months ago. From what little I'd heard, the political scene in Obsidian was tumultuous, at best. "Is that good?" I asked hesitantly.

He nodded. "The situation in Obsidian is stabilizing. If all goes well, he may return for a visit soon."

I breathed out a sigh of relief. "I'm glad."

His smirk widened. He leaned closer and caught my chin in his fingers, his breath ghosting across my lips. "I return earlier than expected, and yet another man holds your attention."

"Concern, not attention," I corrected him, catching his teasing mood. I placed a quick peck on his lips, knowing that wouldn't satisfy him, and added, "I don't have to worry about you."

As I hoped, he kissed me again, harder and longer, pressing me back against the shelves and effectively ensuring he was the only person on my mind. The sweet smell of roses enfolded me, a smell I always missed when he was gone, even surrounded by a garden full of the flowers. His smell was a little different. A little earthier, like there was a touch of vetiver in his cologne. A little mustier, like maybe the barest hint of sweat, too. I couldn't quite describe it, but I wished I could bottle it up for when he was gone and I felt a little lonely.

I had a problem. A tall, handsome, eminently alluring problem.

"Do you have any plans for this afternoon?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down my spine. The man hadn't been back ten minutes, and he already had the dormant butterflies in my stomach awake and dancing the waltz. But I knew his game, and I shoved at his chest to make him take a step back.

"No, Chevalier, I am not ready to ask you for help with my Garnetian language studies," I said. "I'm making good progress without you. Probably better than I would with you."

He plucked the book from my hands and slotted it into the shelf behind me, undeterred. "I'll take that as a no."

I feigned a dejected sigh as he took my hand, although I offered no resistance to his tug toward the exit. "Do I get to know what you have planned?"