How was I supposed to convince her to give me the time of day if she loved someone else? She couldn’t love someone else, though. Your soulmate was meant to love you and you alone.
I’d loved someone else, hadn’t I? I’d loved her, and that love had cost Leesha her life.
I evanesced as close as I dared, hiding behind a tree far too thin to conceal me completely, but it was the best place to overhear their whispered conversation.
The man adjusted his grip on the windowsill, reaching for Aveen. “I care for your sister—” he said, his accent clipped and crisp. Definitely high-born. Likely Airren peerage, which made sense since Aveen was a member of the upper-class as well.
And he’d come here for Aveen’s sister.
Relief fell like a misty rain, cooling my ire. Shouldn’t he be at the sister’s window, then?
Aveen told him it was time to go. When he protested, she threatened to scream. I wouldn’t mind seeing how Lord Bannon dealt with the whinge bag. Maybe he’d have him clapped in irons and hauled down to the jail. Or maybe he’d shove the bastard off the trellis, and he’d accidentally break his neck.
When the man tried to grab Aveen’s hand, she jerked back and started counting.
“No one will ever love you once they meet the miserable woman beneath all those false smiles and feigned manners,” he said. “You think you know me, but I know you too—”
The window slammed shut. When she didn’t lock the latch at the top, a smile tugged at my lips.
The man cursed as he descended the trellis. I shifted his horse to our paddock so he’d have to walk wherever he was headed in the dead of night. He could use a good long think about speaking to Aveen like that. I may not have had the capacity for love, but even I knew that wasn’t how to win over a woman. Human men at that age were such eejits.
Aveen remained silhouetted in the window, her head slowly lifting until it appeared as though she were staring straight at me. Part of me wanted to step out of the shadows and into the soft yellow light to see what would happen.
Would she smile? Would she scream? Would she lock the window and pull the curtains tight?
I didn’t give her the chance to do any of those things, remaining hidden as I called forth my magic.
Evanescing somewhere you’d never been could be tricky. You only had a split second before landing to make sure nothing—and no one—was in your way. From this angle, I could see the top of a canopy bed. When I evanesced, I ended up on the opposite side, between the bed and a closet.
The left side of the quilt had been tugged down, and the pillow above had a telltale dent.
Aveen slept on the left side of her bed.
The fact that I always slept on the right side didn’t mean anything. It was a coincidence, plain and simple. Still, when I sank onto the right side, my smile grew. “Lover’s quarrel?”I said.
Aveen whirled, clutching her chest when she saw me on her bed. The shadows of her legs danced beneath the modest shift she wore. Somehow, the high collar made the garment seem even more indecent as her chest rose and fell in the most delicious way. “How didyouget in here?”she gasped.
“I evanesced.”
“Evanesced?”
Ignorant human.With a flick of my wrist and a bit of magic, I appeared by the window. Aveen leapt out of her skin, stumbling into her chair with a quiet curse.
“Evanesced,” I repeated. “I had planned on taking the trellis, you see, but it was otherwise occupied. You really should start locking your door. There’s no telling who’ll pop in.”
I caught her slight wince as she rubbed her backside. If she wanted some help, I’d be more than willing to take the pain away, so long as she didn’t mind my hands lingering.
“What good would that do?” she asked.
I shook away the errant thought, focusing on her question.
In truth, locking the windows and doors wouldn’t do much if one of us truly wanted to enter. But if she was locked up tight, whoever evanesced beyond the door would be in breach of the law, subject to the dire consequences. Consequences I’d gladly administer.
But I didn’t tell her that because it was irrelevant. “You’d be surprised.”
A small figurine of a little girl in a blue dress sat on the corner of her dressing table next to a tiny porcelain bunny. She had a bottle of rose oil as well. The stuff smelled heavenly, without a hint of witch hazel.
When she asked me my name, I couldn’t help but grin. It was about damned time she showed some feckin’ interest. “Oisin, Colin, Ciaran, Cian, Liam, Fionn, Dara, Shay. Take your pick or call me whatever you like.” I made my way over to her chair. A bit worn around the arms, like she spent a lot of time sitting there. I sat down but immediately stood again. The thing needed new springs. “Makes no difference to me,” I muttered.She could call me Lady Marissa for all I cared. So long as she never learned my real name. If my mother found out what I was up to, she’d have both our heads.