but she preferred to keep potential enemies close.
The salad was crisp and tangy, the chicken succulent. After the servers arranged the meal before them, artfully displayed on white china, quiet descended on the table. As they ate, the only sounds were the distant fountain and unintelligible murmurs from other tables. And when Aurelia added the cream to her cup, she smiled, providing the signal that she was ready to resume the conversation.
“Now then, why don’t you tell me what you were doing in the maze?”
“So direct.” His smile gained layers, amusement and something else, a darkness.
“It would be unwise to underestimate me,” she said quietly.
“I have no wish to be your enemy, Miss Wright.”
“Then what
do
you wish?”
Theron tilted his body toward her, but the move felt calculated, choreographed to make her respond. To her annoyance, it worked. She wanted to lean toward him as well, and she sensed a whisper of glamour trickling from him.
“You won’t beguile me into cooperating with whatever you want from me. If this is about my father, I’m no longer privy to his plans or schemes. I have no influence over his decisions in any sphere.”
“It’s not about your father,” Theron said softly.
Aurelia didn’t know whether she found that reassuring. “But you concede your presence here tonight was not by chance?”
“Few things truly are. I came for my own ends, but I am delighted to meet you.”
“For what reason?” she demanded.
“You are, rather, a legend among some circles.” She sensed some prevarication in that reply, but it wasn’t entirely false. Maddening. “The girl who gave up her name and became the woman who will not bend? Impressive.”
“There are others who’ve done as much. Why seek me out?” It was like bashing her head against a brick wall.
“Who’s to say I have?”
That silenced her a moment as she considered her next question. She felt sure he had an agenda but decided it was unlikely he’d disclose it on a first encounter. Intuition insisted he had a particular aim in mind, but Aurelia hoped she was too wary to permit herself to be used, however strong a man’s charisma. And forewarned was forearmed.
“You’re not the first person to come in search of some nebulous favor. But you’ll gain nothing by associating with me.”
“You presume that’s not my goal in its entirety.”
“Getting to know me?” She laughed. “A thin achievement to be sure.”
Theron only smiled, his eyes as dark and unreadable as the night sea.
After he departed, she didn’t sleep well, haunted as ever by bad dreams. But for the first time since she could recall, Aurelia did not dream of drowning. Instead, she dreamt of burning and woke gasping for air, checking her flesh to ensure it wasn’t charred as it had been in the nightmare.
• • •
R EHEARSAL WAS A disaster; the dancers were distracted by the ongoing investigation, and she capped the afternoon by arguing with Leonidas. He stormed out in a rage, not that he ever
left
the Royale. She worried about her old friend. His grief over his parents’ death had driven him deep inside himself, but now it was twisting him strange. He’d once been an open, friendly man of great personal warmth, but now . . . ? Aurelia wasn’t altogether certain what he was becoming.
Finally, she shouted, “Stop! We’ll try again tomorrow. I hope you’ll all bring more focus and a better frame of mind.”
Depressed, she returned to the club, and the sense that someone dogged her footsteps returned in force. The whole way, she kept an eye over one shoulder, and she didn’t relax until she stepped inside the foyer to be greeted by Hargrave.
In waning daylight, she passed through to the conservatory to stand before the stained-glass windows, blazing light from the setting sun. Twilight crept up on her, bearing purples as a gift. She gazed down at the city, remote from this vantage, until the sky darkened entirely,
The salad was crisp and tangy, the chicken succulent. After the servers arranged the meal before them, artfully displayed on white china, quiet descended on the table. As they ate, the only sounds were the distant fountain and unintelligible murmurs from other tables. And when Aurelia added the cream to her cup, she smiled, providing the signal that she was ready to resume the conversation.
“Now then, why don’t you tell me what you were doing in the maze?”
“So direct.” His smile gained layers, amusement and something else, a darkness.
“It would be unwise to underestimate me,” she said quietly.
“I have no wish to be your enemy, Miss Wright.”
“Then what
do
you wish?”
Theron tilted his body toward her, but the move felt calculated, choreographed to make her respond. To her annoyance, it worked. She wanted to lean toward him as well, and she sensed a whisper of glamour trickling from him.
“You won’t beguile me into cooperating with whatever you want from me. If this is about my father, I’m no longer privy to his plans or schemes. I have no influence over his decisions in any sphere.”
“It’s not about your father,” Theron said softly.
Aurelia didn’t know whether she found that reassuring. “But you concede your presence here tonight was not by chance?”
“Few things truly are. I came for my own ends, but I am delighted to meet you.”
“For what reason?” she demanded.
“You are, rather, a legend among some circles.” She sensed some prevarication in that reply, but it wasn’t entirely false. Maddening. “The girl who gave up her name and became the woman who will not bend? Impressive.”
“There are others who’ve done as much. Why seek me out?” It was like bashing her head against a brick wall.
“Who’s to say I have?”
That silenced her a moment as she considered her next question. She felt sure he had an agenda but decided it was unlikely he’d disclose it on a first encounter. Intuition insisted he had a particular aim in mind, but Aurelia hoped she was too wary to permit herself to be used, however strong a man’s charisma. And forewarned was forearmed.
“You’re not the first person to come in search of some nebulous favor. But you’ll gain nothing by associating with me.”
“You presume that’s not my goal in its entirety.”
“Getting to know me?” She laughed. “A thin achievement to be sure.”
Theron only smiled, his eyes as dark and unreadable as the night sea.
After he departed, she didn’t sleep well, haunted as ever by bad dreams. But for the first time since she could recall, Aurelia did not dream of drowning. Instead, she dreamt of burning and woke gasping for air, checking her flesh to ensure it wasn’t charred as it had been in the nightmare.
• • •
R EHEARSAL WAS A disaster; the dancers were distracted by the ongoing investigation, and she capped the afternoon by arguing with Leonidas. He stormed out in a rage, not that he ever
left
the Royale. She worried about her old friend. His grief over his parents’ death had driven him deep inside himself, but now it was twisting him strange. He’d once been an open, friendly man of great personal warmth, but now . . . ? Aurelia wasn’t altogether certain what he was becoming.
Finally, she shouted, “Stop! We’ll try again tomorrow. I hope you’ll all bring more focus and a better frame of mind.”
Depressed, she returned to the club, and the sense that someone dogged her footsteps returned in force. The whole way, she kept an eye over one shoulder, and she didn’t relax until she stepped inside the foyer to be greeted by Hargrave.
In waning daylight, she passed through to the conservatory to stand before the stained-glass windows, blazing light from the setting sun. Twilight crept up on her, bearing purples as a gift. She gazed down at the city, remote from this vantage, until the sky darkened entirely,
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