It annoyed me, I wanted nothing more than to wipe that cocky smile of his face. To stuff his pride down his throat and let him choke on his arrogance.
But alas, I had no choice but to stomach it all. For I had made a deal with the devil, and now I had to do his bidding.
"And to what do I owe this honor?"
With a roll of my eyes, I try my best to ignore his taunts. I cock my hips to the side, resting my hand on the curve of my waist as I narrow my eyes at him. He holds my gaze, ever unwavering as he begins to tap a random beat on the mahogany desk before him.
Silence rained between us, a challenge to see who would speak first.
The secret room was just an old, dusty library, filled with the musty smell of decaying paper.
At its center stood a glass pillar, no taller than a door, holding a silver casket etched with markings matching those on the walls. A small envelope-shaped slot on the chest blended into the glass.
The Paramour pigeon wasn't magic—it was real, but misunderstood. Everyone believed it had only one opening, never noticing the tiny keyhole in the stamp.
With the right key, a hidden side compartment appeared—just big enough to reach in and pull out letters.
No magic. Just clever design.
Apparently, offering were made to the pillar before one could use it. Offering that held monetary value, be it a few gold coins, precious gems or expensive jewelry. They treated the pillar like a god, and hell, I still don't understand why educated nobles would turn to such methods.
In short, the legend of the paramour pigeon was nothing but a scheme to con unsuspecting nobles of their money. A farce that had faded with time only for it to be brought back to life again.
" Rumours are spreading like wild fire." I begin, throwing in the towel to our silent duel. "Just like you wanted."
The man before me let's out a soft chuckle, reaching for his glass of wine. He settles the wine glass between his fingers, giving it a few twirls before bringing it to his lips.
With a content sigh, he drops his cup and flashes me a crooked smile.
"That's great news, but unfortunately it's not what I want to hear."
My jaw clenches on hearing this, but I keep my composure and take a step forward. He leans back in his seat as I approach him, a daunting smirk playing on his lips.
I stop right in front the desk, my gaze darting to the exquisite wine that stood out like a sore thumb on the aging furniture.
A wave of nostalgia hits me—it's the same brand as my first wine. I've had many since, each one costing me a piece of my freedom.
He notices my stare and assumes I'm thirsty, pouring me a glass in the same cup he just drank from.
"Care for a drink?" he asks, amused.
I scoff, glaring at him. "You're insane if you think I'd drink from your cup."
"My dear damsel," he teases, "don't tell me sharing a cup means something to you?"
It does. Sharing a cup is sacred—a vow, a bond, a symbol of marriage. And he knows it.
And here he was, casually offering me his cup. Was it boldness or pure foolishness?
"You and I know very well what sharing a glass signifies. " I retort back and he shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip of the wine on my behalf.
"I thought you didn't care for such traditions. Since you're so against the notion of marriage." He counters, referring to my reasons for escaping the Aurora.
"I'm not against marriage." I put out honestly, and he cast me a cast me a judgmental look.
"Your desperation to leave the Aurora says otherwise." He deadpans and I scoff, my patience stretching into a thin line.
"I'm sorry I don't like the idea of being bound to a man I know nothing about for the rest of my life. " I snapped, my voice raising a tad bit higher.
"Not even for for a fine man like myself. " He winks and just like that, the line snaps.
I slam my hands against the desk, tossing every ounce of my composure out the window. The wood groaned at the impact, but he doesn't flinch.
"It's been a week, and I'm still here." I hiss, and from he quirks a brow, but I cut him off before he throws another snarky remark. "I've done everything you've told me to do. I've fulfilled my part of the deal, now it's your turn to do yours."
I'm out of breath by the time I'm done talking, chest heaving. And this man…this man, casually sips on his wine. I don't know what infuriates me more, was it his nonchalant attitude, or the fact that every move he made looked painfully beautiful.
I couldn't help but steal glances at his wine stained lips, making it appear more tantalizing than it already did. Or how he peered at me through hooded eyes, his violet orbs glistening behind the curtain of his eyelashes.
How the muscles in his arms contract each time he pours himself a glass of wine, even through his silk shirt, it was hard to ignore. Or how the silver rings decorating his knuckles clinked with the glass, how his pale skin glittered under the dim glow of the old lanterns.
I hated it.
My attraction towards him, how he made me reject and want him at the same time. A viscous tug of war between common sense and my desires ensured, and unfortunately for me, my desires were pulling harder.
"Patience my dear." He sighs, finally closing the lid of the wine. " Let's not forget you still haven't told me what I want to hear."
I blink at his words, my shoulders tensing up. "I have nothing to say."
He arches a brow, unconvinced. "Oh really?"
Looking over to the side, I avert his peircing gaze; an exasperated sigh slipping past my lips.
"I've told you over and over again. I'm a simple noble woman who's here against her will, and I refuse to bend to my family's tune." The lie melts off my tongue like hot butter on toast.
The creak of his chair pulls me from my train of thoughts, and I took in a sharp breath as he towered over me. His body blocked off the light from the dying lantern, casting a light shadow on my face. The table let out another groan as he leaned against it, looking down on me like predator on prey.
I was stubborn, so I raised my head higher, refusing to give into the intimidating aura circling around him, a huge contrast to how my heart thumped loudly against my chest. I wonder if he could hear it, if he could see the effect he had on me.
I hoped he didn't, that would be too embarrassing.
We engaged in another challenge, a silent duel. I kept my head up, staring right into his violet eyes that seemed to see through my soul, filtering through my insecurities and fears. My hairs stood at the back of my neck, a side effect of the rush of excitement that pulsed through my veins.
Was it really excitement? or the humidity of the room getting to me. Maybe it was because of how close he was, the desk was our only barrier and I was grateful for it. If I leaned an inch forward, my lips would touch his.
Would I taste the wine he had if I did?
My eyes widened at the sudden thought, skin paling before bursting into scarlet. I looked away, another loss for me.
Next I heard a deep sound resonate from his chest, a snort of laughter that made me squeeze my eyes shut in pain.
My ego had just taken three blows and an uppercut.
"Damsel…" he coos, his voice thick as honey, and just as sweet. I refused to look at him, even when his words were like an hypnotic spell calling me to him.
Another huff, followed by another creak of the desk. My heart skips a beat as his hands brushes against the side of my face, heating up my skin in it's trail as it finally lands on my chin.
He tilts my head back to face him, a devilish smirk adorning his face. And for some stupid reason, I don't pull away.
"You should know better, my dear damsel, that one shouldn't look away when telling a lie." He muses, his voice coming out as a soft whisper.
My brows furrowed, my rage resurfacing. Not because I was caught, but because I was playing right into the palm of his hands.
"On the contrary.." I begin, slapping his hand away from my face. "I was just tired of staring at your face." I shamelessly spat yet another lie.
His smile came slow, starting from a small twitch of his lips to a full toothy grin.
His smiles always came so easily, making it impossible to read what went through his mind . A master move to mask one's true feeling.
Was he amused? Intrigued? Or was he just fooling around.
I never knew which was which. Even after spending a week with him, he remained a mystery, which was bad because I was itching to unravel it
"Very well then." With that said, he takes a step back, and I find myself releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"I clearly remember the terms of our agreement, so you don't have to worry about that." He proclaims, turning away from me to place the bottle of wine back in the shelf he took it from.
"So when do I leave?" I ask his back, unable to hide the irritation in my tone.
He acknowledges me with a shrug of his shoulders."You should be out before the headmistress reads her farewell speech for the graduation."
What?!
My mouth falls ajar in shock. The graduation was a month away. A whole month.
"I can't spend another month in the Aurora!" I snap, knowing what I meant to say was I couldn't spend another month with him.
"The deal was you help me with my business and I help you escape. This business lasts till the graduation, and so will your escape." He explains frimly, his back still turned to me.
"I'm amazed you think of this as a business when you're just conning people of their money."
He finally turns to me, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. "Carefull what you say my dear, if I'm a criminal then that makes you an accomplice." He counters and I roll my eyes.
"I'm never called you a criminal." I say dryly and he shakes his head at me.
"People tend to put labels on others without even realizing it." He proclaims.
I say nothing in response and he heaves out an exasperated sigh.
"Patience my dear. I promise to get you out soon."