The Winged Tiara by J'nell Ciesielski

Author:J'nell Ciesielski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2024-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

12

Freshly washed, shampooed, and spritzed with her orange-blossom perfume, Esme felt more like herself as she stood on the small wrought iron balcony watching the quaint town rub sleep from its eyes and yawn into the bright orange-and-pink beams of dawn. She dug her fingers into her hair, massaging her aching head, but no matter how hard she rubbed, the brutal truth of failure pounded in her skull. How much longer before the countess sent Pirazzo to finish off Esme for good? How much longer before she felt the sting of his fingers around her throat because the Valkyrie had slipped through her fingers? Again.

All because of that little egg.

After their stinging disgrace at Lamb’s house, she and Jasper returned to the hotel in silence, collected their bags, and climbed back in the car to be deposited at the nearest train station. Lamb’s driver waited and watched as they purchased tickets and climbed aboard the early morning train, before finally motoring off to report to his master that they had departed.

Jasper waited until the wheels began churning before chucking off their luggage and hopping down to the platform once more, swinging Esme down with him. Lamb needed to think they’d slunk away with their tails between their legs if the plan was to work. What plan that was, they had yet to discuss.

From the train station Jasper hailed a taxi and gave directions to a small village some ten kilometers from Lamb’s house. In France, ten kilometers might as well have been another planet. Jasper seemed to know precisely where he was going when he led her up a slim flight of stairs to a flat over a café. It was an airy space with pale oak floors covered in rugs of light blue. White walls with pictures of delicate flowers and landscapes. Antique furniture in pristine condition and a bedchamber with enough mirrors to satisfy the vanity of a peacock.

From the balcony she heard the front door to the flat open and close.

“Breakfast is here,” Jasper called.

Turning from the serene morning view, Esme walked through the double doors into the living space where he’d settled a tray piled with food on a low table in front of the settee. A single daffodil sprouted from a crystal vase on the tray.

“We have croissants, tartine, fresh butter, cherry marmalade, palmiers, sliced oranges, and cheese. Brie and Comtè, I believe.”

Esme took one of the provided plates from the tray and chose a sampling of each as her stomach growled in anticipation. Of all the countries she’d stolen across, nothing topped a fresh French breakfast. After settling on the blue silk settee, she slathered her baguette with brie and cherries and bit into it. Decadence! She closed her eyes and savored the tangy sweetness of the bread, the warmth of the sun’s rays peeking through the windows, and the slow softening of her muscles as they relaxed against the plump cushions. A delicious drowsiness swirled her thoughts together as her bones grew heavy, longing for rest.

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