The Glittering Court
Page 53
Cedric sank to his knees. There was less light out here, but I could see him put a hand to his face. “The Star Advent has to be outside. I should’ve suggested another place. This one’s privately owned, like Douglas said, but they’ve used it before—and that’s dangerous. I should’ve been more prepared—helped them more.”
I put a hand on his shoulder, moved by the anguish in his voice. “You helped them. They may have all gotten away. You gave them some warning before the riders came.”
He stood back up. “Adelaide, why did you come out here?”
“Why do you think?” I asked. “Warren was bragging about how he was going to go round up some Alanzans tonight, and I knew my favorite heretic would be out with them.”
“Adelaide . . .”
Although I wasn’t able to truly meet his eyes in the darkness, I felt compelled to glance away from the intensity I could feel. There was no way I could tell him the truth, that Warren’s words had filled me with dread, that my chest had tightened with the thought of something happening to Cedric—imprisonment, or worse. The bureaucracy of the Glittering Court, Viola’s machinations . . . none of it had mattered if something happened to Cedric.
“And I didn’t want to see your father steal your commission if you got yourself killed in some weird star-worshipping ceremony.”
His amusement returned. “You don’t know what Star Advent is?”
“How would I? I’m a devout worshipper of Uros.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw you sleeping, the last I was in church with all of you.”
I turned away and began walking in a random direction. “I’m going home to bed.”
He took my arm and began leading me a different way. “Come on. You’re in enough trouble, so let’s make a detour.”
“Is that a good idea?” I asked uneasily. “With them after us?”
“They aren’t after us anymore—not you and me, at least. And we’ll practically be on Wisteria Hollow’s property anyway. I need to show you what Star Advent is. Don’t worry,” he added, guessing my thoughts. “There are no dark ceremonies, no heathens lying together under the moon.”
“‘Lying together under the moon’? I suppose that’s a delicate way of referring to something sordid.”
“It’s not always so sordid. Sometimes it’s part of the Alanzan wedding service,” he explained. “Perfectly respectable.”
I thought about what Mira had said, that Alanzan morals were the same as ours—but I didn’t want him to know I’d asked about such things. “How so?”
“There’s a line in the ceremony: ‘I will take your hand and lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon.’”
“Well, that’s pretty,” I said reluctantly. “But I take it sometimes lying together under the moon is as sordid as it sounds?”
He considered for several moments. “Yes. Yes, sometimes it is.”
After cutting through more wooded areas for a while, we entered a field. It was desolate and overgrown with weeds, probably abandoned in one of the wars with the Icori.
“This should be open enough,” Cedric said, though I noticed he stopped near the tree line so we weren’t entirely exposed.
He spread his cloak out on the ground and lay down on one side, gesturing for me to do the same. Puzzled, I gingerly crouched down and then stretched out beside him. There wasn’t a lot of room. He pointed.
“Look up. Away from the moon.”
I did. At first, I saw nothing but the stars set across the darkness of the sky. It reminded me of Blue Spring, with so many more stars visible than around the lights of Osfro. I was about to ask him what I was looking for when I saw a streak of light in the sky. I gasped, and another soon followed.
“A shooting star,” I said, delighted as I saw another. “Is that why you’re out here? How did you know?” I’d seen one as a child, completely by chance.
“It happens every year around this time. I never know the exact dates, but the astronomers figure it out. We say they’re the tears of the six wayward angels, weeping for their estrangement from the great god Uros.”
Another star streaked above us. “You worship Uros?”
“Of course. He’s the sky father. We acknowledge that—just as the orthodox do. And we pray during Star Advent that Uros and all the angels, glorious and wayward, will be reconciled. It’s a time for us too to put away grudges and find peace.”
I watched the stars. “I’d like to find peace with you. I’m sorry for what I said after the gala.”
He sighed. “No, I’m sorry. You were right—Warren Doyle is a good match. His . . . approach rubbed me the wrong way, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything amiss.”
“Eh . . . well, that might not exactly be true.”
I told Cedric about the revelations at the party. Aghast, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at me. His body seemed to be only a heartbeat away from mine.
“What? Why are you only just mentioning this?”
“Well,” I said drily, “I was kind of busy saving you and your heretic friends.”
“Adelaide, this is . . . I don’t know. This is bad.”
“Yes . . . or is it?” I asked. “I mean, I didn’t like her manner, but I was already considering Warren. I don’t know.”
“Before, it was your choice. Now, it’s becoming blackmail.”
“If I married him, she’d have no motivation to sell me out.”
“But she’d always hold that over you. Someone who’s threatening to do it now will never let that go. And if she does tell now . . .”
“Then some enterprising scoundrel in hope of a bounty carries me back to Osfrid. Unless I get the security of marriage—with Warren or someone else.”
“I’ll marry you myself before I let you do that.” There was a hardness to his voice, no joking.
I still managed a laugh, but there was a catch in it. Maybe it was because of the earlier excitement. Maybe it was because we were lying out alone under the stars. Maybe it was simply the boldness of what he’d said—and what it would mean.
“Last I checked, you aren’t in a position to ‘let’ me do anything.” He was so close to me, his body leaning into mine. I could see the lines of his face, the shape of his lips. And of course, I could smell that damned vetiver. “Besides, what use could an art-forging, renegade noble possibly be to some tree-worshipping—”
I can’t say the kiss was entirely unexpected. And I can’t say I hadn’t wanted it.
There was a hesitancy to it at first, as though he worried I might protest. He should’ve known better. I parted my lips and heard a small sound of surprise catch in his throat. And then all nervousness between us vanished. I’d say I yielded to him, except I was every bit as aggressive as he was. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer, crushing his lips to mine. It was the great release of months and months of pent-up . . . attraction? Lust? A deeper feeling? Whatever it was, I let it sweep me away.
I’d shared a few polite kisses in ballroom corners that seemed to belong to some other world. There was nothing polite here. It was hungry and consuming, almost an attempt by each of us to possess the other. I felt my whole body respond when he shifted his over mine. One of his hands cupped my face, and the other rested on my hip. After years of virtue lectures, I’d always wondered how silly girls could give theirs up. Now, I understood.
I put a hand on his shoulder, moved by the anguish in his voice. “You helped them. They may have all gotten away. You gave them some warning before the riders came.”
He stood back up. “Adelaide, why did you come out here?”
“Why do you think?” I asked. “Warren was bragging about how he was going to go round up some Alanzans tonight, and I knew my favorite heretic would be out with them.”
“Adelaide . . .”
Although I wasn’t able to truly meet his eyes in the darkness, I felt compelled to glance away from the intensity I could feel. There was no way I could tell him the truth, that Warren’s words had filled me with dread, that my chest had tightened with the thought of something happening to Cedric—imprisonment, or worse. The bureaucracy of the Glittering Court, Viola’s machinations . . . none of it had mattered if something happened to Cedric.
“And I didn’t want to see your father steal your commission if you got yourself killed in some weird star-worshipping ceremony.”
His amusement returned. “You don’t know what Star Advent is?”
“How would I? I’m a devout worshipper of Uros.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw you sleeping, the last I was in church with all of you.”
I turned away and began walking in a random direction. “I’m going home to bed.”
He took my arm and began leading me a different way. “Come on. You’re in enough trouble, so let’s make a detour.”
“Is that a good idea?” I asked uneasily. “With them after us?”
“They aren’t after us anymore—not you and me, at least. And we’ll practically be on Wisteria Hollow’s property anyway. I need to show you what Star Advent is. Don’t worry,” he added, guessing my thoughts. “There are no dark ceremonies, no heathens lying together under the moon.”
“‘Lying together under the moon’? I suppose that’s a delicate way of referring to something sordid.”
“It’s not always so sordid. Sometimes it’s part of the Alanzan wedding service,” he explained. “Perfectly respectable.”
I thought about what Mira had said, that Alanzan morals were the same as ours—but I didn’t want him to know I’d asked about such things. “How so?”
“There’s a line in the ceremony: ‘I will take your hand and lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon.’”
“Well, that’s pretty,” I said reluctantly. “But I take it sometimes lying together under the moon is as sordid as it sounds?”
He considered for several moments. “Yes. Yes, sometimes it is.”
After cutting through more wooded areas for a while, we entered a field. It was desolate and overgrown with weeds, probably abandoned in one of the wars with the Icori.
“This should be open enough,” Cedric said, though I noticed he stopped near the tree line so we weren’t entirely exposed.
He spread his cloak out on the ground and lay down on one side, gesturing for me to do the same. Puzzled, I gingerly crouched down and then stretched out beside him. There wasn’t a lot of room. He pointed.
“Look up. Away from the moon.”
I did. At first, I saw nothing but the stars set across the darkness of the sky. It reminded me of Blue Spring, with so many more stars visible than around the lights of Osfro. I was about to ask him what I was looking for when I saw a streak of light in the sky. I gasped, and another soon followed.
“A shooting star,” I said, delighted as I saw another. “Is that why you’re out here? How did you know?” I’d seen one as a child, completely by chance.
“It happens every year around this time. I never know the exact dates, but the astronomers figure it out. We say they’re the tears of the six wayward angels, weeping for their estrangement from the great god Uros.”
Another star streaked above us. “You worship Uros?”
“Of course. He’s the sky father. We acknowledge that—just as the orthodox do. And we pray during Star Advent that Uros and all the angels, glorious and wayward, will be reconciled. It’s a time for us too to put away grudges and find peace.”
I watched the stars. “I’d like to find peace with you. I’m sorry for what I said after the gala.”
He sighed. “No, I’m sorry. You were right—Warren Doyle is a good match. His . . . approach rubbed me the wrong way, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything amiss.”
“Eh . . . well, that might not exactly be true.”
I told Cedric about the revelations at the party. Aghast, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at me. His body seemed to be only a heartbeat away from mine.
“What? Why are you only just mentioning this?”
“Well,” I said drily, “I was kind of busy saving you and your heretic friends.”
“Adelaide, this is . . . I don’t know. This is bad.”
“Yes . . . or is it?” I asked. “I mean, I didn’t like her manner, but I was already considering Warren. I don’t know.”
“Before, it was your choice. Now, it’s becoming blackmail.”
“If I married him, she’d have no motivation to sell me out.”
“But she’d always hold that over you. Someone who’s threatening to do it now will never let that go. And if she does tell now . . .”
“Then some enterprising scoundrel in hope of a bounty carries me back to Osfrid. Unless I get the security of marriage—with Warren or someone else.”
“I’ll marry you myself before I let you do that.” There was a hardness to his voice, no joking.
I still managed a laugh, but there was a catch in it. Maybe it was because of the earlier excitement. Maybe it was because we were lying out alone under the stars. Maybe it was simply the boldness of what he’d said—and what it would mean.
“Last I checked, you aren’t in a position to ‘let’ me do anything.” He was so close to me, his body leaning into mine. I could see the lines of his face, the shape of his lips. And of course, I could smell that damned vetiver. “Besides, what use could an art-forging, renegade noble possibly be to some tree-worshipping—”
I can’t say the kiss was entirely unexpected. And I can’t say I hadn’t wanted it.
There was a hesitancy to it at first, as though he worried I might protest. He should’ve known better. I parted my lips and heard a small sound of surprise catch in his throat. And then all nervousness between us vanished. I’d say I yielded to him, except I was every bit as aggressive as he was. I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer, crushing his lips to mine. It was the great release of months and months of pent-up . . . attraction? Lust? A deeper feeling? Whatever it was, I let it sweep me away.
I’d shared a few polite kisses in ballroom corners that seemed to belong to some other world. There was nothing polite here. It was hungry and consuming, almost an attempt by each of us to possess the other. I felt my whole body respond when he shifted his over mine. One of his hands cupped my face, and the other rested on my hip. After years of virtue lectures, I’d always wondered how silly girls could give theirs up. Now, I understood.
