Alabaster Cities (Kings and Thieves Book #2)

Chapter 41

**Hello again everyone! Here is an extra chapter as promised. it's a long one.
BTW... the events of this chapter, though heavily foreshadowed, may feel like a bomb drop. Just a reminder that - although I will never include overly violent or sexual content in my writing - the Kings and Thieves series deals with some serious topics, which I do try to handle in the most respectful way possible.
I was thinking now is a probably a good time to mention this as the third book will have A LOT of flashbacks- some of which may contain violent and possibly triggering scenes for some people. I will always put a disclaimer, but just an early FYI!!**

Chapter 41:

Lyla peeled one of her evening gloves off of her hand so she could trace the cold marble of the walls. She caught sight of herself in the mirror; a string of pearls and a gown of violet that brought out her blue eyes, with her blonde hair piled atop her head like a lady.

The royals were having some sort of concert, which Lyla and her friends had been invited to attend. The musicians were quite talented; and it was lovely violin concerto being played in the parlor currently, but when the music became too loud Lyla had excused herself for a moment alone.

There was something about the woman in the reflection in front of her that Lyla couldn't put her finger on. Her chin was raised and a hint of smile rested on her rouged lips.

Was this what confidence felt like? Did other people always feel this empowered and poised and lovely? Lyla wished she could trap the feeling in a bottle and keep it with her all of the time.

The Verignes scandal was over. There was nothing more to worry about. Everything was finally beginning to fall into place.

"You're celebrating alone, Lady Quincy?"

Lyla glanced behind her to see Lucien strolling towards her. He looked much more relaxed when he wasn't around the other royals; dimples more prominent, his hair curling slightly and his collar open, exposing his throat and collarbone. He stopped a few feet away from her, grinning, and rocked back and forth on his heels.

"What is it that I am supposed to be celebrating?"

"Finishing the job, of course." His eyebrows, which were nearly darker than his hair, lifted slightly. "You're the talk of the city around here."

"Well, obviously," she replied in a tone equally as mischievous, playing along. It was too easy to talk to Lucien. Why weren't any of the gentlemen at home this way; so effortless and open?

He chuckled. "So, I imagine you'll want to escape this place as soon as Cedany pays you, no?"

"I haven't decided yet." Lyla glanced at him sideways; at his profile, his jawline raised towards the ceiling, the sunlight pouring in from the windows and streaming over his eyelashes. "Why?"

"No reason." But his dimpled gave him away, and a second later, they were both laughing. Then, his expression softening, he said, a bit shyly; "Verignes would be loathe to lose you so soon."

Lyla's cheeks ached from the pull to smile. "You suppose so?"

"Of course. We've hardly just met you." He shrugged, lightly scuffing the heel of his boot on the floor. "You should stay. If you want."

Stay. Lyla stiffened at that, though the idea had occurred to her more times than she'd admit to herself.

"Though," Lucien said, knowingly, "I could hardly imagine your friends being ecstatic about the idea." He said it as if he'd read her mind.

She chuckled, wishing she didn't sound so disappointed.

Lucien was right. Her friends made no pretenses about their desire to go home. Aveline especially seemed to want to leave as soon as possible.