Steel Rose

Chapter 41

Belle Pov

Ptolemus is hesitant to leave my side, made obvious my his lingering touch on my hands every so often. His eyes speak of bashful deeds that stir my stomach with excitement, but I hold steady. Knowing him, he'll come seek me out soon enough.

"Don't you have to get back to your family?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

He fakes hurt, "You sound like you want me to go," he smiles.

"I want you to stay out of trouble with your parents," I answer, "And I definitely don't want to be the cause of you getting in trouble."

His eyebrows furrow, "I'm not going to get in trouble."

I feel my lips purse and Ptolemus' eyes immediately fall to them. Self conscious I bit my bottom lip, only making it worse. "Um," I start shifting on my feet, as dull pain stabs my underneath ribs, "If you say so," I shrug.

I turn, needing to move. He is quick to follow. I nearly expect him to take my hand, a bold action in front of so many. But he doesn't, saving any more of his affection for the privacy of his quarters.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look," he says under his breath, casting a heated glance down at me.

I fight off a smile, "Thank you," I say back as a blush finds it's way to heat my face.

"I see you got my gift," he gestures to the gold cuffs on my arms. One of them catching the light.

"Yes," I sigh turning over my arms. "They're lovely. Again, thank you. How will I ever repay you?"

Ptolemus grins and I roll my eyes at his boyish attitude, but something catches my eye. I look past him, slightly over his shoulder.

Evangeline's silver hair gains my attention, the molten liquid metal hugging her body catching everyone else's. She catches my gaze, her look void before snarls in distaste and turns away. I resist the urge to smile back in spite.

An older, beautiful women stands with her, vividly physically different from her offspring. Small and unassuming, with her dark hair and petite frame. She watches too, with dark empty eyes.

I turn back to Ptolemus. "Tell me about your mother."

His head snaps to me, "My mother?" He questions. "What about her?"

"You've never mentioned her to me before, that's all," I start, "Except on our first outing together."

"Why the sudden curiosity?"

I shrug, "I just noticed her with your family that's all. I've never seen her at court before. I mean, you've met my mother and brothers."

"Yes," he agrees, "And I like to think I'm doing you a small favor by keeping you to myself."

I shake my head, "How so?"

"My mother can be judgemental and," he pauses searching for the right word, "stiff."

I chuckle, "So like my mom?"

He smirks, "Your mom is openly that way,"

I laugh, both understanding and confused. "You took me to meet your father," I retort.

Ptolemus shakes his head, "Its different, Isabelle," he sighs, "You'll meet her soon enough, if that's what you wish."

Noticing Christian making his way towards us, I let the subject drop. Ptolemus notices and his chest puffs and he tenses. Christian mirrors his actions, his usually light expressions, darkened.