Chapter 53

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Ptolemus Pov

"She is going," Mother says as she cuts into her dinner, her tone leaving little room for argument, "Isn't that what you want anyway, Ptolemus."

My voice catches in my throat. I do want her with me. But I want her safe as well. I can handle myself, Isabelle's voice fills my head as I recall what she told me only a few nights ago. "Yes," I hear myself say. "But-,"

"Then there is nothing more to discuss," Mother interrupts, "Isabelle will be going along. I might have some use for her."

"Like what?" I ask keeping my voice level. Of course I should have known. My parents would never willingly take Isabelle along if not for their own reasons. My gut tells me the reason is greater than my mother's personal pleasure.

"Nevermind," she says not bothering to look my way as she continues to eat.

I look across the table, daring to face the green envy on my sister's face. Elane had been forbidden by both my father and her own to come with Corvium with us. With Evangeline. Although I suppose it's best this way. Elane is safer here. I just wish Isabelle could stay too. They would keep each other company. They would be out of harm's way.

Isabelle Pov

I roll on the balls of my feet my shoes speaking on the polished wood as I watch at his side, my body is still warm from my many laps around the training arena, as Ptolemus works the incline press. I watch, fighting the urge to reach out and run my fingers over the smooth skin of his flexing chest. He breathes steadily, keeping his eyes focused straight, focused and calm. He is showing off by now, I know that. But I don't stop him.

"So," I drag tauntingly, a smirk making way across my lips. "What did your parents say?"

He glances at me, "I'm assuming you know," he says speaking in puffs limiting his speech to conserve oxygen.

I tilt my head to the side, "I don't know what you're talking about?" I twist my fingers behind my back.

He pauses for a moment to look back up at me the corner of his mouth lifting, "Belle."

"I want to hear you say it," I say failing to keep the grin off my lips. He sighs and keeps pumping his chest expanding distractingly. I click my tongue and step in front of him grasping the machine in front of him. He stops, his eyes locking with mine in surprise. Pieces of my hair fall from it's frazzled braids, framing my flushed cheeks. "Come on now. Spit it out."

He purses his lips in more amusement than annoyance, "You're going." I step back letting go of the press. He exhales deeply letting it fall back with a loud clamp. Heads turn our way, eyebrows raised. Ptolemus shakes his head grabbing the towel sitting nearby, wiping his face and neck ignoring the looks.

"Don't look so happy," I say my voice thick with sarcasm as I place my hands on my hips.

He sighs placing his elbows on his knees to peer up at me. For some reason this only annoys me. "I'm happy. I just...it's safer here."

"I can take care of myself," I stress, my disdain clear in my voice. "Not that it matters anyway. You have no say in it anymore. I say I'm going, you're parents say so too."

He lurches to his feet, throwing the towel over his shoulder. Any other person would have stepped back due to his size but I stick firm. The very last thing I am is afraid of him. His eyes are frustrated his lips pressed into a grim line. "My parents have some other motive to bring you along. They do everything with purpose, Isabelle."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Yea? What exactly would that be?"

"I don't know!" He admits running his hand over his face. He places his hands on his hips, widening his build. I try to ignore the way his pants hang low on his hips and and the heat still radiating from his bare chest. I know that he knows what he is doing, and I refuse to let him.

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