Read Roses & Thorns for Free Online

snorted
abruptly, shifting against the reins to protest the stillness. The rider held
him easily.
    "Is
she pretty, Culdun?"
    "Yes,
my Liege."
    "I
might have been spared that, don't you think?" The emptiness in the
rider's voice had returned.
    The
horse tossed its head impatiently. Suddenly, without another word, the rider
spun the beast about and launched into full gallop. Culdun climbed back onto
the driver's bench, but Angelique barely noticed. She watched the horse and
rider until both vanished from sight.
    Angelique
was a shaking mass of nerves by eight that evening. Her logic had been pushed
to the brink of rationality, and her body regretted the exhaustive turmoil of
the past night. Her corset was fashionably too tight. Her feet were protesting
the persistent necessity of real shoes. But the dress, with its pearl seeded,
peach bodice and cool, ice-blue silk was the most beautiful thing she had ever
been uncomfortably tied into.
    She
had wanted to meet Drew with confidence, not insecurity. But this palace was an
endless torture of subtle reminders that she could no longer be quite sure of
what she was dealing with. How, for example, could each dress in the wardrobe
be exactly her size? How could her haphazard words sometimes alter a
ruby-studded hair comb into one with sapphires? And how could similar words
change the color of her petticoats from cream to white? It was all terribly
disconcerting. Somehow, she had never suspected that Aloysius' use of the term
"magickal" should have been taken so literally.
    Culdun
had appeared just as she was preparing an elaborate excuse. He shooed her two
attendants away, muttering something about silly nieces, and assured Angelique
that she need take no notice of their silence; it was simply that they were
more afraid of her than she was of this dinner.
    A
grateful smile answered his jest, and feeling slightly less adrift, Angelique
followed him downstairs. After he left her in a parlor that was nearly as large
as the ground floor of Aloysius' house, however, she again began to feel her
insecurities rise. She barely noticed the embroidered chairs and expensive
carpets, so intent was she on keeping silent. Her odd habit of talking to
herself had a decided risk in a place such as this. So she concentrated instead
on the heat from the fire, trying to warm her chilled fingers.
    She
held the silver rose, ever mindful of its thorns, but unaware of its delicate
beauty in the flickering light. She closed her eyes, pressing a hand to the
flat of her stomach and forcing a few even breaths. Just when she felt she was
beginning to relax, the sound of a voice startled her into nervousness again.
    "Are
you well, my Lady?"
    The
tall, cloaked figure stood a few steps inside the doorway, a dark shadow
silhouetted by wavering torch light. The stance was a nervous one, as hands
clenched and weight shifted uncertainly. It had not occurred to Angelique until
that moment that Drew would also be nervous.
    "I
am well," Angelique managed. "Only somewhat nervous."
    Fists
uncurled and weight settled. "That is understandable. Forgive me if I
startled you."
    "You
did not." Suddenly, she remembered who she was addressing and gathered her
skirts to sink into a hurried curtsy murmuring, "It is I who should beg
forgiveness, my Liege."
    "No!"
    Angelique
looked up without rising and waited. It was disconcerting to find that the
cloak hid both shape and face of this stranger.
    "Please."
The other approached slowly. "Please get up."
    Angelique
rose, but the unspoken question of 'why’ remained between them.
    "I
would prefer we dispense with such formalities."
    "If
you like." Angelique smiled.
    Drew's
swift intake of breath was audible, and Angelique glanced at the gloved hand
that clutched the chair's back. "My Liege?"
    "Culdun
said you were pretty, my Lady. But he never mentioned the sheer beauty of your
smile."
    Her
chin lifted defiantly as Angelique remembered the overheard words and the
feeling behind them: that