Illusions by Jade Kerrion

Author:Jade Kerrion [Kerrion, Jade]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781544196343
Amazon: 1544196342
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2017-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Dace’s familiar, ugly face tugged into a smile. “It’s for my mother.”

Nithya already knew the answer, but it was a relief to hear Varian own it instead of offering a fictitious response as Dace.

“It’s a birthday gift, the first since my father passed away last year.” He folded the velvet over the jewel and slid it into an inner coat pocket, before giving to Nithya a signed document that authorized the trading agents in the city to deliver large sums of wood, coal, food, and wine.

She glanced at the piece of paper. “It’s more than we agreed on.”

“A bonus, for completing the work earlier than you promised.”

“Thank you.” Nithya turned away to place the document in a drawer. When she glanced back, he was already at the door, on his way out.

But why wouldn’t he? He could have had me arrested after I called him a tyrant and a megalomaniac, before I knew all the facts—but he didn’t.

Why would he stay now for more abuse?

Her heart squeezed painfully. “Wait,” Nithya called out.

Varian looked over his shoulder but did not turn around.

He looked weary and lonely. His dark eyes all but screamed with pain—the kind that was so constant that he wore it like an old, comfortable coat, taking refuge in it.

Did he even know how to shed it? She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. “Would you like to stay for some tea? It’s a cold night.”

“It’s always a cold night.”

“Colder than usual. The tea’s already brewing.” Nithya bit her lower lip. She wouldn’t beg if he decided to leave. She stressed him out, wore him down. She already knew it. They’d had three fleeting encounters as their true selves. He’d utterly ignored her in the first two, and in the third, they had argued, viciously, bitterly.

She had called him a tyrant to his face, without caring if she understood the situation. She, who knew how utterly words could destroy, had been careless with them.

If only she could take back her damning words.

A smile trembled on Nithya’s lips. Seventy-two hours. She had all of seventy-two hours to tell him how sorry she was. Seventy-two hours to somehow convince him that she didn’t hate him.

She could not bear it if he died not knowing she cared and that her heart would break with his death.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked again.

He hesitated.

He wanted to say yes. She could see it in his eyes, but a denial passed through his lips. “It’s late. I wouldn’t want to delay your store closing. I should go.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His fae nobility was the absolute bane of her existence. “It’s already closed.” Nithya stepped past him to lock the door. She slid her arm through his. “The tea’s in the kettle upstairs.”

Nithya watched him as she added soothing herbs to the pot of tea she had left to steep. He stood at the window, looking out over La Condamine. Protecting La Condamine. Standing still, his shoulders relaxed, his stance unguarded, he blended into her small, cozy space as if born to it.

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