Sándor invites me to make myself comfortable in one of the rooms available on the floor. It turns out that I'm in an apartment at the very top of Timeea's home.
I struggle for a little bit with his name, without being too obvious about it. Sándor is very polite, and accommodating. He offers to help with my bag but, I decline as respectfully as I can, and make my way to a room on the far left. It is facing the town of Gallassos but due to the fact that all the windows are made of stained glass, I can't see a damn thing.
The room, which I assume is the living space of the apartment, has a concentric shape, while the rooms follow the same pattern. No corners. Everything is flowing so seamlessly that I struggle to grasp the concept. Heavy furniture decorates the room, there is a small upholstered sofa with thick velvet and delicate floral detailing that catches my eye, as the last light of the day pierces through the stained glass, painting the room in a variety of bold yellows, rich coppery orange, deep red, and forest green.
All the furniture is designed to fit this unusual type of architecture. My eyes fall on the four-poster bed on the far wall, almost oblong, but not quite. Like the rest of the furniture it bends to the curvature of the wall, fitting against it perfectly. The rich canopy hovering over the bed, heavily embroidered with butterflies of various colours and sizes, soaring towards the ceiling. My eyes follow one of the butterflies that is right at the top of the canopy. I'm so taken by the sight, that for a split moment, I see him flap his wings. I blink, and the vision disappears.
This place is messing with my internal compass so much.
" You should see the bathroom," A rich velvety voice jump-starts my heart, and I turn on my heels to find him leaning against the door frame. And if you guessed that it has a slightly oblong shape. You guessed right.
Painted in rich colours, playing on his face and mousy blond hair, stands none other than Mason Kinnaird. I see him twice a week, but we are not allowed to touch him. We are not allowed to say anything that is considered out of bounds. Eric is present at every interaction, and I don't think I can take two and a half years of this.
" How are you feeling, Canim?" I glance over his shoulder and find that Sándor has made himself scarce.
Swallowing the thick knot of emotion clogging up my throat, I nod " I'm good. Is it safe?" We are more cautious now. No more clandestine meetings. No letters. No longing looks. I've buried everything so deep down that it takes me a moment to mentally unshackle my emotions. I knew he would be here but I didn't expect this type of arrangement. What did I expect? I don't know, but not this. A lot of details slipped my mind in the time between December and now. So, many things have happened.
" It is. We don't need to parade in front of everyone hand in hand. We still have to be cautious. Just in case. I'd rather not take any chances. I've had a quick look over the guest list, and so far I didn't recognise anyone. This is more of a political gathering, than anything else," He pushes off the door jamb and slowly closes the door behind him. My eyes trace over the length of him, mesmerised by his muscled long legs, the slacks that leave nothing to the imagination, showing every twice, and flex as he prowls towards me with steady elegant strides. His presence tends to magnetise the room, as he always does, turning the energy thick and dense, settling over me very much like a weighted blanket. With my heart trashing in my throat, my gaze snags on the snug shirt clinging to his shredded abdomen, and his steel pectorals. I've seen him naked more times than I can count, but still, the instantaneous surge of lust sees my body aflame. It never gets old. When our eyes connect, I feel my heart plummet, my stomach roils with nerves, and my palms begin to sweat. I'm a mess and we barely spoke.
Assesing icy blue eyes trace over my features, examining in detail, committing to memory, just as much as I do. A slanted smile stretches on his handsome face, eyes sparkling with mischief and something else that I can't quite put a name to.
With a deep breath, I gather my wayward thoughts and collect myself.
Not now
With great effort, I bring myself to the present. A lot rests on how we handle tonight. We need to be practical about it. We are past the point where we can afford mistakes. My patience is worn thin, my body is worn thin.
I'm still in the middle of the damn room, rooted to the same spot that I've been standing for the last twenty minutes.
" Sounds good. Neither of us has any political involvement...except you. The mayor...word travels. I guess you're right. We should stay at a distance," My mind is racing so fast, extrapolating probabilities, that I don't even notice him when he stops in front of me, gently grabbing my shoulders, " Lily," A soft plea, contradicting the pinch of his brows when our eyes clash, " Breathe....it will be fine. You worry too much. You've been careful," He kisses my forehead and slowly tugs me into his chest. I don't realise how tense I am until he wraps his arms around my shoulders and tucks my head under his chin. Releasing a heavy breath of relief, I melt into his chest, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
" I'm sorry..." He chuckles and begins to rub my back soothingly, the tension that has me wind up tighter than a bobbin, slowly easing out of my body. I lean into his frame, finally, registering the hard lines of his muscles, the warmth seeping out of his body, the soft feel of his cashmere jumper, and the fact that he is not wearing a suit.
" You're not wearing a suit," I say as I glide the palm of my hand over the soft fabric of his jumper, feeling every divot, ridge and valley on his upper body.
" Very observant, " He quips and kisses my temple, " You must be tired. Lay down for a minute. I've been here since this morning. You need to have a little rest before the ball. We still have a good two hours ahead of us," I tilt my head back to look at him, his eyes rove over my face, but I don't find the dangerous glint of lust that I'm accustomed to; instead, there is a softness to his features, the content set of his mouth, and a spark of joy.
I nod, pulling away from his embrace and make my way towards the bed, while Mason follows behind me. While I remove my shoes, he parts the canopy, revealing rich white bedding, with shimmering golden accents, making me look over my shoulder at Mason, in question.
" Takkara is known for its riches. Wealth, here is an important denominator. I'm rich in Morston, and most districts, but here whatever riches I've accumulated can be used as pocket change," That makes me laugh, he chuckles as we both shuffle on the crisp linen. Maybe I should take my clothes off, so I don't dirty this precious bed linen.
Mason slumps on the bed and pulls me down, " Whatever you're thinking. Let it go. You'll exhaust yourself before the evening has even started. Have a nap, Canim. I'll wake you up in time to get ready, " I snuggle into his chest, he wraps his arms around me pulling me closer, and kisses the top of my head.
" Whatever you say," I mumble into his chest feeling my eyelids flutter closed, suddenly exhausted. It doesn't take long before I'm pulled into a dreamless sleep.