From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash Series Book 1)

My heart was pounding so hard as his fingers drifted to my chin. He tilted my head back, and I felt like I was falling. His mouth moved to my ear, and his warm breath sent hot tingles through me.

“Poppy,” he murmured, the word sounding rough, thick.

“Yes?” I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice.

His fingers slid down my throat. “How did you get out of the room without me seeing you?”

My eyes popped open. “What?”

“How did you leave your chambers?” he repeated.

It took me a moment to realize that he wasn’t trying to kiss me. He was just trying to distract me. Feeling about seven different kinds of foolish, I cursed under my breath and pulled at his hold. This time, he let go.

Face flaming, I stepped back. I retreated several steps, lowering the journal as I dragged in a deep breath.

I was so incredibly…stupid.

Desperate to not let him see how close I’d come to letting him kiss me or the fact that I thought he was going to, I lifted my chin. The rawness was still there, though, and I felt no relief. “Maybe I walked right past you.”

“No, you didn’t. And I know you didn’t climb out of a window. That would’ve been impossible,” he replied. “So, how did you do it?

Frustration spiked as I turned back to the window, welcoming the cool air drifting in. I was perhaps foolish enough to get caught, but I was not stupid enough to realize that I could get away with not telling him. “There’s an old servants’ access to my chambers.” My grip tightened on the journal. “From there, I can reach the main floor without being seen.”

“Interesting. Where does it empty out on the main floor?”

I snorted as I turned back to him. “If you want to know that, you have to find out for yourself.”

He lifted a brow. “All right.”

Holding his stare, I couldn’t help but acknowledge that there still wasn’t any relief. There was just…gods, there was only disappointment that he hadn’t kissed me. And if that was an indication of anything, it was that I needed to get control of myself.

“That’s how you got onto the Rise without being seen,” he stated, and I shrugged. “I’m assuming Vikter knows all about this. Did Rylan?”

“Does it matter?”

He cocked his head. “How many people know about this entrance?”

“Why do you ask?” I challenged.

Hawke took a step toward me. “Because it’s a safety concern, Princess. In case you’ve forgotten, the Dark One wants you. A woman has already been killed, and there has already been one abduction attempt that we know of. Being able to move unseen through the castle, directly to your chambers, is the kind of knowledge he’d find valuable.”

A shiver crept across my shoulders. “Some of the servants who’ve been at Castle Teerman for a long time know about it, but most don’t. It’s not a concern. The door locks from the inside. Someone would have to break down the door, and I’d be ready if that happened.”

“I’m sure you would be,” Hawke murmured.

“And I haven’t forgotten what happened to Malessa or that someone tried to abduct me.”

“You haven’t? Then I guess you just didn’t take any of that into consideration when you decided to go gallivanting through the city to the library.’

“I didn’t go gallivanting through anything. I went through Wisher’s Grove and was on the street for less than a minute,” I told him. “I also had my cloak up and this mask on. No one could even see a single inch of my face. I wasn’t worried about being snatched, but I also came prepared, just in case.”

“With your trusty little dagger?” The dimple reappeared.

“Yes, with my trusty little dagger,” I snapped, about two seconds away from throwing the thing in his face. Again. “It hasn’t failed me before.”

“And that was how you escaped abduction the night Rylan was killed?” he surmised. “The man wasn’t scared off by approaching guards.”

I exhaled noisily. There was no point in lying about this now. “Yes. I cut him. More than once. He was wounded when he was called off. I hope he died.”

“You are so violent,” Hawke all but purred.

“You keep saying that, but I’m really not.”

Hawke laughed again, the sound deep and real. “You really aren’t all that self-aware.”

“Whatever,” I muttered. “How did you even realize I was gone?”

“I checked on you,” he said, running a hand along the back of the settee. “I thought you might want company, and it seemed stupid for me to stand out in the hall bored out of my mind with you inside your room, most likely bored out of yours. Which, obviously, you were since you left.”

What he said caught me off guard. “Did you really?”

His brows lifted.

“I mean, did you really check on me to ask if I…I wanted company?”

Hawke nodded. “Why would I lie about that?”

“I…” I didn’t know how to explain that not even Vikter did that when he was on duty. My guards weren’t allowed, as the Duke would see that as being too familiar. But no one checked on the old wing. Still, Vikter stayed outside, and I stayed inside, but Hawke was different. He’d shown that from the beginning. I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Hawke was quiet, and when I glanced over at him, I saw that he was closer, leaning against the settee. “How did you end up on the ledge?”

“Well, that’s kind of a funny story…”

“I imagine it is. So, please, spare no details.” He crossed his arms.

I sighed. “I came to find something to read, and I stopped inside this room. I…I didn’t want to go back to mine yet, and I didn’t realize that anything about this room was special.” I eyed the liquor cabinet. That alone should have been a warning. “I was in here, and I heard the Duke outside in the hall. So, hiding on a ledge was a far better option than having him catch me here.”

“And what would’ve happened if he had?”

I shrugged once more. “He didn’t, and that’s all that matters.” I quickly moved on. “He had a meeting here with a guard from the prison. At least, I think that’s who it was. They were talking about the Descenter who threw the Craven hand. The guard got the man to talk. He said that the Descenter didn’t believe that the Dark One was in the city.”

“That’s good news.”

Something about his tone snagged my attention. I glanced at him. “You don’t believe him?”

“I don’t think the Dark One has survived as long as he has by letting his whereabouts be widely known, even by his most fervent supporters,” he responded.

Unfortunately, he had a point. “I think…I think the Duke is going to kill the Descenter himself.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Does that bother you?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do, and you just don’t want to say it.”

It was so freaking irritating how correct he was…and how often. “I just don’t like the idea of someone dying in a dungeon.”

“Dying by public execution is better?”

I stared at him. “Not exactly, but at least then it’s being done in a way that feels…”

“Feels like what?”

I inhaled heavily. “At least then it doesn’t feel like it’s something being hidden.”

Hawke stared back at me, almost curiously. “Interesting.”

The corners of my lips turned down. “What is?”

“You.”

“Me?”

He nodded and then moved, his hand striking out. Before I even knew what he was doing, he had a hold of the book.

“Don’t!” Unprepared, my fingers slipped over the leather binding, and then it was free from my hand. He had it! Oh, my gods, he had the journal, and that was worse than falling to my death. If he saw what it was about—

“The Diary of Miss Willa Colyns?” His brows knitted as he turned it over. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Give it back.” I reached for it, but Hawke danced away. “Give it back to me now!”

“I will if you read it for me. I’m sure this has to be more interesting than the history of the kingdom.” He opened the book.

Maybe he couldn’t read.

Please, let it be that he could not read.

The grin slowly slipped from his face.

Of course, he could read. Why was life so unfair?

His dark brows rose as he flipped through the pages. I knew what was on the first page. Miss Willa Colyns had been painfully detailed about the intimate kiss. “What interesting reading material.”

My face was burning with the fire of a thousand suns, and I wondered how mad Hawke would get if I threw my dagger at his face.

Again.

The grin returned, and so did the dimple. “Penellaphe.” He said my name with so much shock, my eyes would’ve rolled if I weren’t so incredibly mortified. “This is…just scandalous reading material for the Maiden.”

“Shut up.”

“Very naughty,” he chided, shaking his head.

Annoyance hitting a record high, I lifted my chin. “There’s nothing wrong with me reading about love.”

“I didn’t say there was.” Hawke looked at me. “But I don’t think what she is writing about has anything to do with love.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert on this now?”

“More so than you, I imagine.”

I snapped my mouth shut. The truth in that statement stung, and I lashed out. “That’s right. Your visits to the Red Pearl have been the talk of many servants and Ladies in Wait, so I suppose you do have a ton of experience.”

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“Jealous?” I laughed as I rolled my eyes. “As I said before, you have an overinflated sense of importance in my life.”

He snorted as he returned to skimming through the book.

Irritated, I turned to the liquor cabinet. A short glass remained out. “Just because you have more experience with…what goes on at the Red Pearl, doesn’t mean I don’t know what love is.”

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked. “Has one of the Duke’s stewards caught your eye? One of the Lords? Or perhaps a brave guard?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t been in love.”

“Then how would you know?”

“I know my parents loved one another deeply.” I toyed with the jeweled top of the decanter. “What about you? Have you been in love, Hawke?”

I hadn’t expected an answer, so when he gave me one after a few moments, I was more than surprised. “Yes.”

There was an odd twisting motion in my chest that I didn’t quite understand as I looked over my shoulder at him, causing me to realize that the aching coldness had eased. I had no idea what it was about him that did that to me. It probably had to do with the fact that he irritated me. “Someone from your home?”

Do you still love her?

That was the second question bubbling to the surface, but by the grace of the gods, I managed to refrain from asking that question.

“She was.” He was still looking down at the book. “It was a long time ago, though.”

“A long time ago? When you were what? A child?” I asked, knowing that he couldn’t be more than a handful of years older than I was, despite the way he made it sound as if it were an eternity ago.

He chuckled, and then his lips curved up in a small half-smile. The dimple made an appearance in his right cheek, causing the twisting motion inside me to increase. “How much of this have you read?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Probably not, but I need to know if you got to this part.” He cleared his throat.

Wait.

Was he going to read from it?

No.

Please, no.

“I only read the first chapter,” I said in a rush. “And you look like you’re in the middle of the book, so—”

“Good. Then this will be fresh and new to you. Let me see, where was I?” He dragged a finger over the page and then tapped the center. “Oh, yes. Here. ‘Fulton had promised that when he was done with me that I wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a day, and he was right.’ Huh. Impressive.”

My eyes widened.

“‘The things the man did with his tongue and his fingers had only been surpassed by his shockingly large, decadently pulsing, and wickedly throbbing—’” Hawke chuckled. “This woman has a knack for adverbs, doesn’t she?”

“You can stop now.”

“‘Manhood.’”

“What?” I gasped.

“That’s the end of that sentence,” he explained, and when he glanced up, I immediately knew that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was going to burn me alive. “Oh, you may not know what she means by manhood. I do believe she’s talking about his cock. Prick. Dick. His—”

“Oh, my gods,” I whispered.

“His—apparently—extremely large, throbbing and pulsing—”

“I get it! I completely understand.”

“Just wanted to make sure. Wouldn’t want you to be too embarrassed to ask and think she was referencing his love for her or something.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“And I’m about to stab you,” I warned. “In a very violent manner.”

Concern flickered across his face as he lowered the book. “Now that, I believe.”

“Give me back the journal.”

“But, of course.” He offered it, and I snatched it out of his hand quickly, holding it to my chest. “All you had to do was ask.”

“What?” My mouth dropped open. “I have been asking.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “I have selective hearing.”

“You are… You are the worst.’

“You got your words wrong.” Striding past me, he patted the top of my head. I lashed out, narrowly missing him. “You meant, I’m the best.”

“I got my words right.”

“Come. I need to get you back before something other than your own foolishness puts you at risk.” He stopped by the door. “And don’t forget your book. I expect a summary of each chapter tomorrow.”

He and I were never going to speak about this diary again.

But I did bring it with me when I followed him to the door. It was only when he reached for the handle that it struck me. “How did you know where I was?”

Hawke looked over his shoulder at me, a faint smile playing at his lips. “I have incredible tracking skills, Princess.”

“I have incredible tracking skills,” I muttered under my breath the following afternoon.

“What?” Tawny turned to me, frowning.

“Nothing. I’m just talking to myself,” I said, taking a deep breath and pushing thoughts of Hawke out of my mind. “You look beautiful.”

And that was true.

Tawny’s hair was twisted up with a few tight curls framing her face. Her lips matched her mask and gown, a deep and vibrant shade of red. The thin, sleeveless dress hugged her lithe form. She wasn’t just beautiful as she walked toward where I stood by the fireplace. She was confident and at ease with her body and herself, and I was in awe of her.

“Thank you.” She straightened the material along her shoulder and then dropped her hand. “You look absolutely stunning, Poppy.”

A flutter erupted in my chest and spread to my belly. “Do I?”

“Gods, yes. Have you not looked at yourself yet?”

I shook my head no.

Tawny stared at me. “So, you put on the dress—this absolutely beautiful, tailor-made dress—and haven’t even looked at yourself? Not only that, you let me do your hair. I could’ve made it look like a nest for birds.”

A nervous giggle left me. “I really hope you didn’t.”

She shook her head. “You are so…weird sometimes.”

I was. Admittedly. But it was hard to explain why I hadn’t looked at myself yet. It was so rare that I saw myself in anything other than white, and even when I dressed differently to sneak out, I didn’t really look at myself. And this was still different because it was allowed. Because some who knew me would see me.

Hawke would see me.

The flutter turned into large birds of prey that began pecking away at my insides. I was so…nervous.

“Come on.” Tawny caught my hand and dragged me into the bathing chamber where the only mirror was located. She marched me straight to where the nearly full-length mirror was propped against the corner. “Look.”

I almost closed my eyes, as silly as that was, but I looked. I stared at my reflection, not quite sure I recognized myself, and it had nothing to do with the lack of veil and the red domino mask that had been delivered along with the gown.

“What do you think?” Tawny asked, her reflection appearing behind me.

What did I think? I felt…naked.

The gown was beautiful. No doubt there. The crimson gossamer sleeves, shaded just enough to hide the scars on my inner arms, were long and flowing, and had a delicate lace edge at the cuffs. The flimsy fabric was opaque at the breast and down to my thighs, the gown skimming my curves and shielding those areas. The skirt was loose, and a thicker band of gossamer created the illusion of tiers every few inches, but everything else was as translucent as a nightgown.

I really should’ve tried the dress on. It had been hanging in my wardrobe for long enough. I had no idea why I hadn’t.

Lies.

I knew that if I tried it on, I probably would’ve sent it back.

Tawny had talked me into keeping most of my hair down. Only the sides were pulled back from my face, secured by tiny pins. The rest fell to the middle of my back in loose waves.

Hawke would see me in this dress.

“Maybe I could use my hair as a cloak?” I suggested, gathering the strands into two sections and pulling it over my shoulders.

“Oh my gods.” Tawny laughed, shooing my hands away. She brushed the heavy waves back. “You can’t see anything.”

“I know, but…” I placed my cool hands against my flushed cheeks.

“You’ve never been allowed to wear anything like this,” she finished for me. “I understand. It’s okay to be nervous.” She stepped back and dug around in the little bag she’d brought with her. “But you look beautiful, Poppy.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, glancing at my reflection. I did feel beautiful in this gown. Anyone would.

Tawny returned to my side, a pot in one hand, and a slim brush in the other. “Keep your lips parted and hold still.”

I did as she ordered and held completely still as she painted my lips the same shade as my dress. When she was finished, she stepped aside. My lips were…bright.

I’d never worn paint on my lips or eyes before. Obviously, it wasn’t allowed for me. Why? My skin was supposed to be as pure as my heart or something. I had no idea. Once, the Duchess had explained it to me, but I might’ve zoned out halfway through that conversation.

“Perfect,” Tawny murmured, placing the pot and brush back into her bag. “You ready?”

No.

Not at all.

But I needed to be. The Rite would begin at dusk, and the sun was already setting.

Pulse pounding, I nodded. Tawny smiled at me, and I think I smiled back. Or at least I hoped I did as I followed her out into the main chamber. I felt a little dizzy as she reached for the door, opening it. Hawke would be out there with Vikter, and I wanted to turn back and run—to where, I had no idea. Maybe to the bed, where I could wrap the blanket around—

Vikter stood alone.

I looked up and down the hall, expecting to see Hawke, but the corridor was otherwise empty.

“You both look lovely,” Vikter said. It was…weird seeing him in anything but black and without the white mantle of a Royal Guard. He was dressed for the Rite in a deep crimson, sleeveless tunic and breeches that matched.

“Thank you,” Tawny said, curling her arm around mine as I murmured the same thing.

The corners of his lips turned up as he focused on me. “You sure you’re ready, Poppy?”

“She is,” Tawny answered, patting my arm.

“I am,” I said, realizing that Vikter wouldn’t move forward if I didn’t say anything.

He nodded, and then the three of us started down the hall. Was Hawke not working tonight? I figured both of them would be on duty with me being at the Rite, but what if I’d assumed wrong? But he’d said he was…curious to see me. Didn’t that mean that even if he wasn’t on duty, he’d be here?

My heart thumped as we walked down the stairs to the second floor. It shouldn’t matter if he was here or what he’d said. I wasn’t dressed for him.

But where was he?

I told myself not to ask. I reminded myself over and over, but I blurted it out anyway. “Where’s Hawke?”

“He had to meet with the Commander, I believe. He will meet us at the Rite.”

Relief swept through me, and on its heels came the almost sweet thrill of anticipation. I exhaled roughly. If my question or reaction appeared odd to Vikter, he didn’t show it. Tawny, on the other hand, squeezed my arm. I glanced at her.

She grinned, and if the mask hadn’t covered her eyebrows, I knew one of them would be raised.

We made our way to the foyer, and there were many people—commoners and Ladies and Lords, both fully Ascended and those in Wait, and staff, all forming a sea of crimson. Cologne and perfumes mixed with the sounds of laughter and conversation.

It was…a lot to take in as we passed one of the statues. The first thing I did was lock down my gift, fortifying my walls. But my heart was still pounding as we entered the hall of banners. The archway of the Great Hall loomed ahead, brightly lit.

Air seemed to leak in and out of my lungs as we then entered the Great Hall.

Gods…

There were so many people. Hundreds stood before the raised dais, between the pillars, and in the windowed alcoves. Normally, I would be on the dais, removed from the throng, but not tonight. It still shocked me that the Duke and Duchess hadn’t demanded that I join them, but there simply hadn’t been any space. Not when there were at least half a dozen Temple clergy on the dais, including Priestess Analia, and just as many Royal Guards.

I looked around, trying to control my breathing. The white and gold banners usually hanging between the windows and behind the dais had been replaced by the deep crimson banners of the Rite, embossed with the Royal Crest. Deep red blossoms flowed from urns, variations of roses and other similarly hued flowers. Up by the dais there was a break in the color, a splash of white amongst the red. For once, it wasn’t me who stood out. Dressed in white tunics and gowns, the second sons and daughters stood with their families. Behind them, the parents of the third sons and daughters crowded, their children in their arms. All of them, even the parents, bore wreaths of red roses and twine upon their heads.

“If I never see another rose, I will live happily,” Tawny commented, following my gaze. “You have no idea how many thorns I had to pull out of my fingers while making those crowns.”

“They’re beautiful, though,” I said as Vikter scanned the crowd that continued to file in.

Most paid us no mind as we walked among them. Only a few did a double-take when their gazes passed over us. Eyes rounded around their masks as they either recognized Tawny or Vikter, knowing that I had to be the one in between them. My cheeks heated, but there were so few of them that noticed. To everyone else, I was…just like them. For the most part, I was blending in. I was no one.

The pressure eased in my chest as my pulse slowed. Breathing became so much easier, and the mental walls blocking out my gift no longer felt as if they were seconds away from crumbling.

I wasn’t the Maiden right now.

I was Poppy.

Briefly closing my eyes, muscles strung tight as a bow relaxed. This…this was what I’d been looking forward to—when I could just be Poppy.

And that made this moment, this night, a little magical.

Opening my eyes, I looked up at the dais again, ignoring the far left of the stage where the Priestess stood. I spotted the Duchess, speaking with one of the Royal Guards I recognized. I generally saw him outside the Duke’s office. I scanned the dais, but I didn’t see the Duke. I wondered where he was when one of the Priests joined the Duchess and the Royal Guard. My gaze dropped to those before the dais, and my excitement dimmed as I thought of the Tulis family. They had to be up there with their son, preparing to say goodbye to yet another child. Tonight would not be a celebration for them, not—

“Maiden.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I looked over my shoulder, already knowing who I would see.

Lord Brandole Mazeen.