Steel Rose

Chapter 42

Ptolemus POV

I go through my plan. All the twists and turns of it. It's a foreign feeling, I'm so used to simply following others plans. Life is easier that way, its what I am good at. But mine is simple enough. Easy, and the only factor I have to truly concern myself with is the aftermath. But I'll deal with that when the time comes.

My mind eventually drifts on to Isabelle. Isabelle. I think of every word spoken to her, every kiss and touch, the nights spent in each others arms. My chest burns when I realize those days could be ticking down. So I spent whatever time I have left with her, memorizing her face, the sound of her voice, branding it into my memory.

My mind drifts back to the night she told me she wouldn't be coming along with me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's just like Isabelle to cry about something I gave her a choice about. To apologize for nothing.

I remember feeling her pain as if it were my own. I recall the urge to take it away. To crush it with promises that would one day be fulfilled and dreams that would be ours and ours alone. But she is too practical for that, and that is not the world we live in.

But in a way I did take away her hurt, if only for a night, in the only way I know how. We didn't speak of it anymore, too tired to speak.

Mother hasn't said a word to me about it, although I know she must want to. She must be annoyed with my absence, since she dots on me the most. Her first born. The heir to the Samos lordship. The thought I realize, never did much for me. I don't feel excited, or dread, or anxiety. It just is.

"Ptolemus," Eve whispers by my side elbowing my arm. "Pay attention."

I tune back into what Father is saying. He's relaying the plans that are to be put into action only weeks from now. At Maven's wedding. He is sure the Red reveals will infiltrate the wedding in some way, trying to rescue Mare and exterminate Maven and his new bride.

Despite my eagerness to finally be free from all this, a sliver of fear goes through my chest. This plan could fail. It could fail and we would all be killed, our loved ones punished. Isabelle and her family.

I take a deep breath. It can't fail.

Isabelle Pov

Mother hugs me in a bone crushing embrace, mumbling into my head about how much she has missed me. How she'll never let me leave her side again. I return her affection, more tears planning to make headway but I told back. If I cry, she will cry and then it will just get messy from there. Smeared makeup, wrinkled dresses and all.

Father is a little less dramatic, but holds me into his safe arms, kissing the top of my head. I sigh into his chest. Finally.

The rest of the night is spent in each others company, laughing, talking, feasting. I smile more then I have in what feels like a lifetime. I watch has mother snatches a bottle away from a already tipsy Christian, much to his protest. A few cousins play cards, but I decide to stick close to Father.

When the night finally does begin to quiet, it slightly past midnight. Father and Christian huddle in a corner, Father's jaw is grinding and he looks deeply troubled as Chris obviously tries to convince him of something.

As if feeling my gaze they stop and turn their steely over to me. Chris's swallows hard and looks away. A bad feeling stirs my gut.

"Its about time you be in bed Isabelle," Father says his voice stained. "Goodnight."

Leaving no room for arguement I nod and turn away heading to my bedroom, wonder filling my head. It's about me. I know it is or else Father wouldn't have sent me away. That or I could just be conjuring things up. Making something out of nothing. I fall asleep with it still on my mind.

TIME SKIP

"I'm sure it was nothing Isabelle," Ptolemus assures placing his palms over my thighs as I perch on the bathroom counter. He stands between my legs, talking over the paper thin razor I glide meticulously over his jaw. "You're over thinking it."

I shake my head, "You should have seen the way they looked when they caught me watching. It was definitely about me."

Ptolemus looks down at me. I pull the razor away and clean it off in the pool of water in the sink.  "We're not getting a big head are we?"

I roll my eyes at him, "Please," I scoff, "You already have one."

He fakes hurt as I begin to work on his other side, "Is that how you think of me?"

I smile, "I have many thoughts about you," I tell him, "Not that you'll ever know them all."

He chuckles pressing me closer. I lean closer to him, as he let's me finish in silence. As I clean off the blade he pulls back, looking at himself in the mirror.

I don't know exactly when we started this, but almost everytime Ptolemus needs a shave, I'm the one to do it, having watched my father and brothers do it countless times. A favor the moment soaking up the feeling of being in his space to my full capacity.

He reaches around me and wets a face cloth before pressing the warm towel to his face cleaning off any extra shaving cream. I watch him, my fingers tapping against his bare chest.

"Isabelle," he says deeply after a while. He makes sure that I'm looking at him in the eyes before he continues, his fingers still and firm on my waist. "If....if I were to ask you to marry me would you?"

I feel my mouth drop open, my mind going blank for several moments.  Marriage. I let the words float aimlessly around in my head.

Something I hadn't considered since I met him. Not to any other man, I realize. I try to picture it. Ptolemus and I. Married. Happy. Children.

"Are you asking?" I say instead.

He smiles nervously, "I was just curious. If somehow we had the chance to get married. Would you have me?"

"Yes," I tell him cupping his face, his skin warm smooth. "I would gladly have you as my husband."

He grins his eyes soft. He reaches up, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. He trails his finger down my neck and to my collarbone. "I love you so much Isabelle." He leans down capturing my lips, his tongue gliding between my lips.

I sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck. Warmth bleeds through me. My legs lock around his waist, as I try to picture it. Me. Him. Our wedding day. My shimmering white dress, his perfectly tailored suit. In the years to come, our silver haired, dark eyed children.

Heat starts up behind my eyes. It's only a fantasy. His house will rebel in only a matter of weeks. We will be separated, apart. No more. He is betroved to Elane Haven, an easy fact to ignore, but reality all the same.

He pulls away gasping but I keep him close. He wipes an escaped tear from my cheeks with his thumb. "Why are you crying?"

I look up at him, his gaze filled with concern. I muster a weak smile. "I just love you so much, Ptolemus."

He presses his forehead to mine, closing his eyes. He hums, content and nuzzles his nose against mine. I smile, pressing a chaste kiss to the bridge of his nose before sliding off the counter. He opens his eyes.

"Come," I sigh leading him out the bathroom, "We best finish getting dressed."