Violet Shadows

43

The words meant for consolidation were sharp instead. "I can't stand that place," She said, the truth washing over her like cold rain. She wanted to leave. Leave Valltore. The plan was already forming in her mind: most of the transportation papers were filed, but if she left now, she'd only cut her savings by a month. In five years maybe that stretch wouldn't be as apparent as it was on paper.

To her relief, her answer only made him drawback within the shade. But his answer stunned her more. "I can't stand being at House Rumiere, either."

Not that the news was surprising, but that he felt comfortable enough to share it. As quickly as her resentment rose, so did the understanding. The horror. The intrigue. The attraction. It wrapped around her like a cloak, and Christine warred within herself.

I think Nicol likes you more than... a friend.

Nicol said, "I don't have the best relationship with my family, so I understand the need to run away from them. Being here is an escape I enjoy. Sending you to House Ducal was a bad idea, I could've rented a townhouse here. I know I would've done it if given the choice between my parents or the filthy lanes of these streets."

"You don't have to talk about your family," Christine said, her mouth drawing a sharp breath. "I know you don't like to talk about them."

"A shame. I was hoping to convince you into spilling your own share of problems." Nicol said, hoping to distract her a little longer. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal golden-brown skin, free of any goosepelt, unlike his current companion. "So then that's it? I was hoping to get into how I became master of the house."

"You don't have to tell me your history." Her voice was harsher this time, less considerate. She was unable to know if it overlapped with her argument with Haleema, but she ignored it by pushing away Nicol's intent of distraction. "I don't need to know everything about you."

"But I want you to." A pause. "I want to know everything about you as well."

It was too blunt to ignore, and she was unsure of how it made her feel. She did her best to look indifferent. "I see."

He took the opportunity when he saw it, eyes flooding with amusement. "What were you like as a child? I imagine you were a busybody who terrified all the maids with your love for cows in tutus. Or at least one secret outing playing the heurne."

"That's horribly off." Christine shook her head. "When I was a kid all I wanted was to be like everyone else." Free of disease, free to have friends. She slumped when rethinking those words. "That sounds boring, doesn't it?"

But Nicol did not share those same sentiments. "You want to be selfish and cruel?"

Her surprise bristled underneath her indifferent facade. "Not everyone is like that."

"You haven't seen that part of the world."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Nicol, you're only like that."

He spent his time deciding on a witty response. But when his gaze fell to her mouth, his own tightened in a restrained urge. He looked away, embarrassed. "You might be right."

There. Christine drew herself away, standing upright with the same hurry as which she sat. She swallowed deeply, a hard knot in her throat forming as she stared at Nicol. Unlike most of her plans, none ever catered to the development of... this. She refused to admit she caught such a thing, a small seed that would grow entwined within her heart like a lovely rose. Nicol's eyes were wide in confusion as she lurked away, digressing this change, but maybe he guessed what they both already knew.

Wild-eyed, she blurted, "Nicol, do you like me?"

Nicol sank in silence. But in the moment she confessed, he knew how her reaction would pertain. The night of the ship's accident was enough. "Would it be so bad if I did?" He said instead.