As he drew on his coat, he was struck by the thought of his shellan and where she had gone the night before.
Holy shit. He knew exactly where Tohr was.
Ehlena meant to leave Rehvenge’s terrace right away, but while stepping into the shadows, she had to look back at the penthouse. Through the banks of glass, she watched Rehvenge turn away and walk slowly down the flank of the penthouse-
Her shin caught something hard. “Damn it!”
Hopping around on one foot and rubbing her leg, she shot a nasty look at the marble urn she’d nailed herself with.
As she straightened, she forgot about the pain.
Rehvenge had gone into another room and stopped in front of a table set for two. Candles glowed amidst a shimmer of crystal and silver, the long wall of glass showing her all the trouble he had gone to for her.
“Damn it…” she whispered.
Rehvenge sat down as slowly and deliberately as he walked, looking behind himself first, as if to make sure the chair was where it should be, then bracing both hands and lowering himself down. The Baggie of what she’d given him was placed on the table, and as he seemed to stroke it, his gentle fingers were at odds with those heavy shoulders and the dark power inherent in his hard face.
Staring at him, Ehlena no longer felt the cold or the wind or the pain in her shin. Bathed in the candlelight, with his head tilted down and his profile so strong and true, Rehvenge was incalculably beautiful.
Abruptly, his head snapped up and he looked right at her, even though she was in the darkness.
Ehlena stepped back and felt the terrace wall against her hip, but she did not dematerialize. Even as he plugged his cane into the floor and rose to his full height.
Even as the door before him parted at his will.
It would have taken a better liar than she was to pretend she just was looking off into the night. And she wasn’t a coward, to bolt.
Ehlena walked up to him. “You didn’t take a pill.”
“Is that what you’re waiting for?”
Ehlena crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes.”
Rehvenge glanced back at the table and the pair of empty plates. “You said they had to be taken with food.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, it looks like you’re going to watch me eat, then.” The elegant sweep of his arm inviting her in was a prompt she didn’t want to take. “Will you sit with me? Or do you want to stay out here in the cold? Oh, wait, maybe this will help.” Leaning heavily on his cane, he went over and blew out the candles.
The curling weaves of smoke above the wicks seemed to her a lament for all the extinguished possibilities that had been: He’d prepared a nice dinner for them both. Made the effort. Dressed beautifully.
She stepped inside because she’d already ruined enough of his evening.
“Seat yourself,” he said. “I’ll be back with my plate. Unless…?”
“I’ve already eaten.”
He bowed slightly as she pulled out a chair. “Of course you have.”
Rehvenge left his cane against the table and walked out, steadying himself on the backs of chairs and the sideboard and the jamb of the butler’s door into the kitchen. When he returned a few minutes later, he repeated the pattern with his free hand and then lowered himself down into the armed chair at the head of the table with careful concentration. Picking up a sleek sterling-silver fork, he didn’t say a word as he carefully sliced his meat and ate with restraint and manners.
Christ, she felt like the bitch of the week, sitting in front of an empty plate while fully buttoned up in her coat.
The sounds of silver tines on porcelain made the silence between them scream.
Stroking the napkin in front of her, she felt god-awful about so much, and though she wasn’t much of a talker she found herself speaking because she simply couldn’t keep everything in anymore. “The night before last…”
“Mmm?” Rehvenge didn’t look at her, just stayed focused on his plate.
“I wasn’t stood up. You know, on that date.”
“Well, good for you.”
“He was killed.”
Rehvenge’s head shot up. “What.”
“Stephan, the guy I was supposed to meet…he was killed by lessers. The king brought his body in, but I didn’t know it was him until his cousin showed up looking for him. I…ah, I spent my shift last evening wrapping his body and returning him to his family.” She shook her head. “They’d beaten him… You couldn’t tell who he had been.”
Her voice fractured and refused to go on, so she just sat there stroking the napkin, in hopes of soothing herself.
Two subtle clinks marked Rehv’s fork and knife coming to rest on his plate, and then he reached out to her, putting his solid hand on her forearm.