I looked back to him, narrowing my eyes as I contemplated what to say. “I think I like you better with short hair.”
I spoke my mind and instantly regretted it. His eyes widened and a smirk played on his lips as he connected where my comment was stemming from.
“Not like before, not dark. You didn’t look good with dark hair.”
“But short…” he interrupted me, “like in the sight.”
I nodded and looked away. I don’t know why this conversation was making me uncomfortable, but it was.
“Maybe I will cut it for you,” he mused.
I ignored him and went back to staring at my mushrooms, contemplating if it was worth it to try and eat another. It had been decided this morning that it was imperative that Ovailia did not find out I was a Drak, which meant that I needed to at least attempt to force down normal food. But the taste was so bitter and the texture so gritty I was having trouble making it look like I was enjoying it.
“Are you okay?” Ilyan asked from beside me. He sat back in his chair sipping at his wine, his eyebrows arched in question.
“I’m swell,” I grumbled, poking at a mushroom. “You know, I am just chilling in a beautiful Italian village, dressed like a hobo, forcing down strange food, and waiting for your sister – who is, in a strange way, my step-mother – with the hopes of begging her to go save my boyfriend.” Ilyan’s smile at my discomfort grew. I scowled and ignored him.
“How did I ever eat this stuff?” I asked a little grumpily, but Ilyan only laughed deeper.
“I think they are delicious.” Ilyan leaned over the table and plucked one of the perfectly golden mushrooms from my plate. He plopped it in his mouth and smiled heavily, as he leaned back in his chair.
“Better than a hamburger,” Ilyan said with a smile.
“Ew.” I cringed at the thought, and Ilyan laughed harder. I rolled my eyes at him and forced another mushroom into my mouth.
“It’s kind of endearing, this new side of you.” Ilyan swirled the wine in his glass alluringly as he leaned in, his back arching him forward.
“Why? Because I don’t eat meat now?”
“Well, there is that. But it’s everything, all of it. How strong you are, how confident, how powerful.” I cringed. “You’re amazing, Joclyn.” My heart thumped into a restart, I ignored it.
“At least you don’t think it’s creepy. The last thing I need is for you to think I’m some kind of freak.”
Ilyan reached forward and grabbed my hand, his thumb rubbing over the ridges on the back.
“Never, Joclyn.”
“Well, aren’t you two cozy.” I jumped at Ovailia’s voice, my aches surging through me.
Ilyan stood at her arrival, his arms wrapping around her without question.
Ovailia looked the same, perfectly poised, not a hair on her head out of place. She embraced Ilyan awkwardly, looking thoroughly out of place in jeans and a silk top.
“Ovailia!” Ilyan finally released her but kept a hold on her shoulders. “I’m so glad you are okay!”
Ilyan’s voice was so pained, so relieved. I felt bad. Especially given what the situation was. The planned double-crossing suddenly felt like acid on my tongue.
“You too, Ilyan. You have no idea. When I saw them... in Prague...” Ovailia broke off, and I was suddenly worried we were going to hear a play by play of what had happened. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. I didn’t want to hear traumatizing accounts of what had happened to my best friend and what she had gone through because of me.
Ilyan pulled away from her and brought up a chair, prompting her to sit down. The waiter approached and Ilyan ordered something in Italian before sitting. The entire time, Ovailia kept her face down in an emotionless mask. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, the sight of her carrying Ryland down the hall still fresh in my mind.
“Ovailia,” Ilyan said as he sat down. “I need to know what happened. You have to tell me who betrayed us?"
Ilyan’s voice boomed with his normal regal air, a sound I hadn’t heard in quite some time. It was obvious he was putting on the front with Ovailia in an attempt to get the information he needed from her. I tensed as I turned toward her, my body stiffening in expectation of whatever truth or lie was going to spew out of her mouth “It was Talon.” I gasped at her words, her head whipping around to glare at me.
“Talon?” Ilyan asked, his voice just as stunned as I was.
“Yes,” she said, her voice strained. “I don’t know how and I don’t know why. But he was leading them down the hall. There were so many. I don’t know if anyone else escaped, Ilyan. I couldn’t find anyone else.”