Eleven
Elaine’s head jerked up and she stared at Caius for a few seconds, heart lodged in her throat. He was laughing. She’d just said things that she probably shouldn’t but somehow—
—did he think it was funny?
Oh my god, he thinks it’s funny.
He took a step forward, smiling ruefully and she felt her blush growing deeper, her cheeks hot.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, not quite sure what else to say.
Way to sound stupid.
“Don’t be,” he said, still smiling. “I needed that—more badly than you realize, in fact.” He reached for her hand and she let him take it, watching as he lifted her gloved fingers up to his lips so he could kiss the back of her hand. “Caius Horatio.”
“I-Isolde Caomhánach.”
“It’s my pleasure and honor, then, Isolde Caomhánach. You’re Lady Arenvale aren’t you?”
She nodded almost convulsively. “I am, yes.” He hadn’t let go of her hand. In a way, despite the sudden attack of nerves, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to. “I—I’m sorry to have seemed so elusive. It wasn’t my intention to cause any offense.”
He blinked, then laughed a little. “You mean with your absence at these sorts of things in the past? Consider it forgiven. I find them a bit trying myself, so the fact that you’ve missed them isn’t something I’ll hold against you.”
“That’s a relief.” She smiled at him and he smiled back, the expression reaching eyes the color of leaves that had just begun to turn from green to burnished gold with the coming of autumn. They sparkled with something she couldn’t name—not quite mischief, not quite interest, but something akin to each and still wholly different.
Caius took a deep breath, still watching her. “May—may I request the honor of a dance tonight?”
She blinked at him, a shiver racing through her. “A dance?”
There was that crooked smile again. “I promise not to step on your toes too much.”
Elaine laughed nervously. “It’s not my toes that I’m concerned with. I’m sure you dance wonderfully.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
It took a second for her to catch his implication—that he supposed that both of them danced just fine—and as soon as she did, she found herself blushing again. She glanced down toward the hem of her gown only to find him tilting her chin back up with his free hand, the other still firmly occupying hers.
“There’s no need for that,” he whispered, searching her face. “It’s all right. My brother speaks highly of Scarlet and any close friend of hers must certainly be someone I should meet and make a friend of.”
Elaine found herself blushing again but managed a tiny shy but pleased smile. “I think my lord flatters me.”
“I only try to speak the truth,” Caius said, and deep down, she somehow knew he meant it. “So. May I have the pleasure of a dance? The first one, perhaps?”
Elaine nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak right away. It took a moment before she managed, “Yes. Yes, of course. But…” she glanced out toward the railing, a dubious look on her face. “Will there still be a chance for that? The crowd’s a bit restless and I didn’t think the orchestra was ready.”
“I imagine they will be by the time we reach the floor,” Caius said. “As for the crowds, they’ll settle soon enough. They always do.” He squeezed her fingers, then released them so he could offer her his arm. “Shall we, then, Lady Arenvale?”
“I would be delighted, m’lord.”
Caius smiled at her, inclining his head, and led her down the hidden stairway that had been the way she came.
Ascalon watched his brother escort Isolde to the stairs, only looking away as they disappeared into the gloom. Scarlet’s hand tightened around his and he exhaled, leaning his shoulder into hers and slumping slightly.
“What’s wrong?” She whispered, letting go to wrap both of her arms around him. “Is it this Sapphire Crown business?”
He shook his head. “No,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “No, I wish it was that. Come on. We need to talk.” He hesitated. “I need to talk.”
She blinked and leaned closer, her lips next to his ear. “Out of character?”
Ascalon nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.
“The study?” She asked quietly, and he nodded again.
“That should be fine. Cay probably won’t notice I’m gone right away and if he comes looking after his turn on the floor with Isolde…” his voice trailed away as he found he really wasn’t she he cared if Caius came looking or not.
Scarlet squeezed him gently, then let go, moving along the rear wall of the gallery to a well-hidden door, one Ascalon and his brother had used on more than one occasion to make a quiet escape from the festivities, usually when one or both of them needed a few moments’ peace. A few seconds later, he and Scarlet were through that door and moving down the corridor beyond, the sounds of the gala fading the further they went. With each step, it got a little easier to breathe, though his heart just got heavier.
But he needed to talk to someone and there was no one he’d rather bare his soul to than her.
His grip on her fingers tightened as they reached the study. She was the one to open the door and ease it open, the space quiet and small, tucked deep into Weatherstone’s maze of rooms. It was his study, not Caius’s, his place to come and hide when he needed it—only rarely at that. Of the two of them, Caius was far more likely to need solitude and peace in the heart of everything. Ascalon, by contrast, usually sought others to distract himself.
This time, though, he knew it wouldn’t work—not the same way it always did.
At least he had Scarlet.
Ascalon moved toward an easy chair tucked in the corner near a fireplace, wood stacked on the grate, waiting for a spark. He stared at those logs for a moment, wondering if maybe he should light them, wondering if it would be wise to do it. Scarlet closed and locked the door behind them, lingering near it and watching him for a few silent moments.
Finally, she cleared her throat. “Ascalon, what’s wrong?”
He exhaled quietly, then crouched to start a fire in the fireplace, using the motions to buy himself time to gather his thoughts. He could feel the weight of her stair, heard the sound of her footsteps, muted against the thick rug, as she approached him. She sat down in front of the fireplace, watching him as he tried to coax the logs into catching.
“Talk to me,” she whispered.
For a second, he closed his eyes, exhaling, shoulders slumping. Scarlet reached out and squeezed his shoulder, a comforting gesture, one he needed more than he cared to admit.
The logs caught and he shifted them slightly, letting go of the tinder he’d used to get them going. He rocked back, half sat, half fell into a sitting position next to her. For a few seconds more, he stared at the slowly growing fire. Scarlet inched closer and wrapped her arms around him.
“Ascalon,” she whispered.
“Jason,” he said. “Tonight, right now, I need to be Jason.”
She was silent for a couple of heartbeats, then her voice came softly. “Okay. You know, that’s the first time you’ve ever told me your name.”
“I know,” he said, then swallowed hard. “It was something I should have done a long time ago and I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”
“It’s okay,” she said, resting her cheek against his shoulder, following his gaze to the fire. “Sometimes it’s easier to just not talk about things like that. It lets us maintain distance—some kind of distance.”
“Easier to pretend that something isn’t something that it is.”
The whispered words were met by more silence. He closed his eyes, hoping that he hadn’t somehow scared her away by saying it. Her arms stayed around him, though, her cheek still rested against his shoulder.
“Joslyn,” she said, just when he thought she wouldn’t say anything. “But most people call me Joss. Easier, a little more informal.”
“Joslyn,” he echoed in a whisper, then exhaled, leaning his head against hers. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You said what both of us were thinking. I’m not stupid and neither are you. I think we both knew that there was something that we weren’t facing. That’s not why I’m here right now, though, is it? There’s something else bothering you that has nothing to do with us.”
“It might have a little to do with us,” he said, reaching up to wrap his hand around one of hers. “I found out today that a friend from the service died. It’s one of those things that sometimes hits harder than you think it’s going to.”
“Oh, shit,” she breathed. “Asc—Jason, I’m sorry. Was it—were you—?”
“We weren’t especially close, no,” he said. “Hung out off-duty, had a few drinks with some other people. We were just friends. Sometimes the senselessness of it all hits you, though. She was a chopper pilot. Her whole crew died with her.”
“Damn.” Scarlet turned her face to press her forehead against his shoulder. Ascalon closed his eyes again. “Was there anyone else?” she asked in a bare whisper. “Did anyone survive?”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, someone did—a few. One of them I knew pretty well.”
“Was it bad?”
“Bad enough,” he murmured. “I’m not sure how bad. It’s one of those things, you know? It just hits and you don’t know why and you don’t know when but sometimes it just hits like a sucker-punch to the gut and you don’t know what you’re going to do or how you’re going to pull yourself out of the tailspin it throws you into.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Cay was trying to get me to talk before we got started tonight and I told him it wasn’t anything that he needed to worry about.”
“But he knew something was wrong.”
He nodded. “He always knows. It’s like he’s got a sixth sense for it. There’s not much you can hide from him.” He straightened slightly and looked down at her just as she looked up at him. “He asked me the other day about you and I.”
“What did you tell him?” she asked.
“I didn’t,” he said. “I dodged like I always do. It’s not something he needs to worry about.” He studied the lines of her face, throat getting tight for a moment as he wondered how much of it might be echoed in the woman behind the avatar, the person he looked forward to talking to almost every night, the one who always seemed to be there when he needed her. “I love him, but there’s some stuff that I’m not ready to let be his business too, y’know?”
She smiled a little. “My roommate was asking about you, too. I told her I didn’t even know your name.”
“Now you do,” he said. Her smile grew a little wider, one corner of her mouth quirking higher than the other.
“Now I do,” she agreed, then stretched up to kiss him.
He leaned into her kiss, squeezing his eyes shut against tears that suddenly stung his eyes, tears coming from nothing and everything all at once. He wanted to sob, to scream, to wrap himself up in her and never leave. He turned toward her, wrapped his arms around her and drew her tightly against him, swallowing hard as he kept right on kissing her, tamping down the sobs that threatened to tear free of his throat. She reached up, hands caressing his cheeks, fingers running through his hair before they wiped aside the tears that welled up, the tears that wouldn’t stop.
He held on, because all of a sudden, she was the port he needed in a storm, the one that had always been there, the one that he never realized was there, the one he never realized how badly he needed.
In the space of a heartbeat, he knew that she had been the one he’d always needed, always wanted—and probably always would.
He pulled back, breathing raggedly, arms loosening before he reached up to scrub away his tears with the heel of his hand. She watched him, brow furrowing slightly, concern written in every line and curve of her face.
“Jason,” she said softly. “What do you need?”
“You,” he breathed without thinking. “I need you. Here, actually with me. I—I need to feel something real.”
“Then tell me where to go,” she said. “I’ll come.”
It hit him like a truck at top speed and for a second he just stared at her, mouth dry, not sure what to say, how to respond. He swallowed once, then again, finally shaking his head.
“No,” he whispered. “No, I’ll come to you. You have your work and all of that and you can’t just duck away. I can, at least for a little while. They’ll understand. Just—just tell me and I’ll come.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, honestly, I don’t know if I’ve ever been so damned sure about anything in my life.”
“Okay.” She reached up, cradling his face between her hands, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. “Okay.”
Then she told him where he needed to go and he kissed her again.
She held him afterwards for what seemed like a long, long time.
