Rumpel shook his head sadly, the weight of his decisions feeling as though they might crush him. “I was born to rule a world of fire and darkness, and now here I sit, brokering meaningless deals, looking for a cure, a lonely old prince fit for nothing.”
“You are alone because it is your choice. You do not need to live as you do, but I support your decision no matter what it might be. Regardless of what we were born to do, we can be whoever we choose. Caratina understood that to be true, it is why you listened to her. Because in your heart you believed there was more to life than to rule a world of nothing but ashes and war.”
“The warrior’s turned philosopher. I don’t think the look suits you.” Rumpel smirked.
Giving the jacket a final stroke, Giles lifted it up and walked over to him, helping him to shrug it on.
“Dinner will be served in ten minutes, sir.”
Just as Giles made to leave, Rumpel held up a hand. “Have you seen to Euralis today? Any changes?”
Clasping his hands behind his back, the servant shook his head. “In truth, master, the boy is not well. He’s refused his last two meals—he will not eat unless from your hand.”
And in his burning red eyes glowed a spark of sympathy, and neither of them finished the thought. That Euralis did not have long for this world, or any other, which made any possibility of releasing Shayera pure fancy.
“Is she failing, sir?”
“That remains to be seen, Giles. It remains to be seen,” he said softly again and for his benefit only as his servant was already gone.
“Ask me anything you’d like.” He toyed with the rim of his crystal goblet as they awaited the first course.
Shayera looked lovelier today than she had even this morning. His heart clenched at the sight of her. She was dressed in a champagne-colored, satin strapless gown with a heart-shaped corset that looked as if it’d been crafted by a master tailor just for her. It highlighted the pearlescent ivory hue of her flesh, made it almost gleam in the dim candle glow. Her breasts were plumped up and made his mouth water for another taste of her rose-tipped nipples.
Her normally wild mane of curls had been tamed and was now twisted up into an intricate knot at the back of her head, and she wore a diamond-encrusted tiara that gleamed with the light of a thousand rainbows whenever the light touched it. He’d told Dalia how to dress her this night, but he might have outdone himself this time.
“You look good enough to eat,” he couldn’t help saying.
Her eyes widened and she was spared having to respond when the first course materialized before them. A creamy green soup glistened from inside a white china bowl.
She reached for a spoon, and as it clattered from her fingers, a flare of brightest pink washed up her sloping neck. It was cute how embarrassed she got by the littlest things.
She had such clean lines, such perfect dimensions. His eyes could feast on her for the rest of his life and he’d always find something new to admire.
“You fascinate me,” he drawled.
She dipped the spoon into the bowl and did not make eye contact with him as she took a delicate sip and then another. “This is good. Very delicious.”
“It’s asparagus cream soup, and you have not answered me.”
Crystal-blue eyes flared and she glared at him. “Friends, right? It’s what you said in the glen today. Then let us be friends and stop this.”
“Stop what?” He steepled his fingers. Gods she was lovely—a gossamer, ivory angel with fiery red curls that reminded him of the red of home.
“This!” She gestured between them. “The games, the teasing.”
“You think I’m teasing you?” He narrowed his eyes, his groin tightening as her breathing increased, causing her breasts to rise and fall rapidly. “Do you think I teased when I lapped at you like a bowl of cream this afternoon?”
“Ugh!”
She tossed herself back in the chair, giving him a petulant scowl he found impossibly adorable.
“This is what I get for coming here. I should have known the moment Dalia pulled out this wretched tiara.” Reaching up, she yanked it from her head and tossed it to the floor. It didn’t even make a sound as it bounced harmlessly off the thick carpet. Lifting a stern, thin brow, she glared with all the haughty fury of an enraged queen. “And I’m sorry,” she said and sniffed, “if I broke it.”
He laughed. “I’m not. I have twenty thousand more that could take its place.”
Tossing up her hands, she rolled her eyes. “It’s that easy for you, is it?” She snapped her fingers. “Whatever you want, in the palm of your hands, always. Snap. Snap. Snap. Well, I’m not going to be that for you. I may be a siren, but I’m not your whore. You said it is over, so kindly stop speaking to me in the most sexual ways possible in the hopes that I’ll lay myself down at your feet, ready to do your bidding, oh evil one.”
Body enflamed, pulse speeding like the battle drive of a thousand horses, he wanted to toss her down and damned his moment of gentlemanly withdrawal earlier in the garden as nothing more than a temporary bout of insanity. But he laughed instead.