Chapter 4: Chapter Three : A Night Worth Dying For

“Men are disgusting. Wretched brutes, the whole lot of them. Vulgar things, they’ll walk all over you if you let them. Each time Father offers up another bull to breed with me, I feel like vomiting. I feel far happier with you at my side.”

~~~

Hazel couldn’t stop staring at Aurelius. Edelweiss had stopped hissing, but was curled tightly in her lap, claws digging into her thigh and wings flaring as if he meant to take flight. Aurelius, for his part, graciously sat as far from Hazel and Edelweiss as possible in the carriage.

Still jovial, he said, “Most animals find me rather unpleasant actually. Not that a dragon is an animal? Per say…?”

He cocked an eyebrow Hazel’s way. She knew it was bait. Most dragon fanciers would jump at the chance to explain dragons were not animals nor monsters, but a fellow sentient being older than humanity itself.

But Hazel… hesitated. She wasn’t in the mood to chat. She kept blinking, flipping between that inhumanly marble face, and the horrible claws digging into his skull. She even looked at Zinnia beside him, just to see that she wasn’t going crazy. But Zinnia’s Fabric was normal, mostly the pure white of Life, with the emotions of Airy joy and a little passionate Fire flickering around her mind. Death only clung to her where Aurelius laid hands upon her thigh, where he pecked her on the cheek.

Hazel had a few theories what could be happening to Aurelius. Anxiety and melancholy tended to fill the mind with the Fabric of black Death. Trauma often manifested as scars of some sort. But in all her years witnessing the darkest moods and deepest traumas… she had never seen something manifesting quite as large as this. Mental scarring wouldn’t turn his fabric from white to black. And the hand had a wrist that trailed upward, thinning into small red and black threads for yards and yards.

And he couldn’t be risen labor. Those were inert, no mind to speak of, always needing clear and direct orders to do something as simple as plough a field.

No, this was some kind of heavy spellweave. Likely a form of complicated mind control. But she had never seen anyone under mind control be so… verbose? And on top of that, could any spell have stolen his entire Fabric of Life away? If that was the case, why wasn’t he, well, dead?

Hazel blinked back to reality, wanting so badly to rub her eyes. Aurelius had to warn her multiple times to not smear the makeup. So she just settled back and closed them, nearly dozing. She was too tired, and her mind was mud. She didn't need to see her own mind to know the weariness of Earth and anxiety of Death were weighing heavily on the Fabric of her mind.

Before they left, Hazel had noticed there was a lingering air of death on the house too. Not unheard of, it could mean any number of things. That the house could be very old and deteriorating. Termites in the wood. Or lots of murders had been committed within the walls…

“So uh, Zinnia,” Hazel asked. “That was such a nice house you had…”

Zinnia perked up. “I know! I am so lucky to be renting it cheap. Some paranoid old crazy person owned it, so they say it's haunted by his ghost. But I haven't had any problems.”

“Ooh! How terrifying!” Aurelius said, grinning and lifting a hand to his face as if he was shocked. “Was that him that I heard moaning in the walls? And that rhythmic banging sound deep into the night…”

“Stooop!” Zinna squealed, elbowing him.

Before things got out of hand, Hazel quickly asked, “So what’s this party for…?”

And Zinnia had the gall to look her dead in the eye and say, “I dunno.”

“Zinnniiiaaaaa…” Hazel groaned as Aurelius chuckled into his free hand. Hazel looked his way to see if he had an answer, but he just looked at the roof of the carriage and flipped his wrist about in a circle.

“It doesn’t matter what it’s about,” Aurelius insisted. “It only matters who will be there – everyone important.”

“Which includes us!” Zinnia piped up.

“Oh yes it does,” Aurelius crooned. “The rising star of the opera. Zinnia Scarlet…”

Aurelius kissed Zinnia on the cheek, and she giggled, pushing him off. Hazel stared out the window as the pair playfully flirted. She idly noticed Aurelius’ way of talking was strangely antiquated. His accent felt strange; she had never heard something like it before. She wondered if it was just a high society thing. At university, the scholars wielded vocabulary like a cudgel, beating how smart they were over each other’s heads. Why wouldn’t it be the same for other people who needed to impress with words?

Eventually, her mind ran out of steam. She couldn’t solve it here riding in this carriage. So Hazel watched out the window as the buildings grew larger and more extravagant. Tall gates carved from white stone and topped with wrought iron. Gardens sprawling and dense, but always with the manor looming larger and grander. The styles of the manors clashed massively. They all looked recently built, but the styles ranged from classic white stone, to modern stained wood, to patently absurd.

Hazel snapped out of her doze when they passed by a home that looked like a solid three story semi-circle, painted orange, and lit up by radiant glowing lighting bolts. Instead of a garden, dozens of muscular statues peppered the sandy lawn.

“What the hell….” Hazel mumbled as they passed.

Zinnia giggled and elbowed Aurelius conspiratorially. Aurelius shrugged, shaking his head.

“Explorers,” Aurelius said. “Have no taste.”

“That’s the home of Ares, the biggest name at the Explorer’s Club!” Zinnia said. She then proceeded to talk about all the amazing things Ares did. But that slid out of Hazel’s mind just as easily as the whispered flirting did.

The road went from the smooth and clean cobbles to dirt. She heard the occasional puttering of a motorized vehicle, but the clip-clopping footfalls of horses were much more common. The manors stopped abruptly, or at least complete ones did. Half-built buildings and empty lots began outnumbering actual homes. The land atop the cliffs was actually unusually flat, with little variation, and allowed Hazel to see far into the distance. Deep in the shadows, Hazel swore she saw ships, and wondered if there was a lake they were using as an airship landing site. The horizon to the north also flickered with orange. Hazel wondered, was there another city out there?

After much halting and stalling, Aurelius suddenly stood up and said, “Right then! Here we are!”

Hazel snapped awake with a snort. She quickly checked her hair and dress, and Zinnia flipped her a thumbs up. She straightened her hat (crimson, borrowed from Zinnia) and Edelweiss leapt up to her shoulders, curling around her neck and still glaring daggers at Aurelius.

Aurelius stepped out of the carriage, and a wave of light and noise pressed through the door. He offered a hand to Zinnia, and the carriage wobbled as she stepped down. He offered a hand to Hazel, but Edelweiss snapped at him, and he backed off, grinning and raising his hands defensively. Hazel hoisted her skirts and carefully descended as well.

A placard along a white limestone wall read ‘The Great Antonian Gardens.’ But Hazel couldn't quite see it through the throngs of fine suits and fancy dresses. Not that it would be the first thing she’d notice anyway. In a wide open area with no homes nearby, there was a massive palace of glass. In front of her was a tunnel of partially nested geodesic glass domes, slowly growing larger and larger until they swelled three stories tall. While the area atop the cliff was mostly flat and scrubby, inside the domes was an oasis of greens. Clusters of trees, bushes, flowering plants, all overlapping in an orderly wild area.

Hazel blinked, but flinched and quickly turned her vision back to normal. She was not prepared for an ocean of people’s glowing white Fabric and the swirling sea of emotions between them. But she was mildly impressed that the building was not augmented with additional spellweave. The things people can accomplish if they put their minds to it…

Hazel carefully followed Aurelius through the clustered crowd. He held Zinnia by the arm, but with one look from Edelweiss he had given up on taking Hazel’s. They ambled towards the large glass doors, but they hadn’t made it three feet before multiple parties called out to Aurelius, requiring him to at least stop to smile and wave back. Hazel soon found herself jockeying for her place among a crowd of hanger-ons, about half a dozen girls with stiff hoops wider than a couch swarming him like a collection of colorful bells. Hazel resigned herself to be lost in the crowd.

But suddenly Aurelius’ gray hand cut through the crinkling waves of colorful silk, cool fingers grabbing her firmly by the wrist.

“Pardon me, my good ladies,” she heard him call before she was bodily tugged through the gap.

Hazel thudded against Aurelius’ stiff chest, his hand smoothly falling around her waist. His grip was firm and steadying, drifting nowhere it shouldn’t be. Edelweiss huffed in annoyance as he shifted to the other shoulder.

Aurelius smiled warmly down at Hazel, then passed his gaze around the crowd.

“My dearest friends and enemies alike! Have you met Hazel?” he said, voice raised to be carried over the crowd as they chuckled and tittered. “She’s just arrived today! Be nice to her now, she’s delicate!”

There was a torrent of greetings and tittering laughter, and Hazel pretended like she imagined the daggers glaring her way.

Thus, arm in arm and with a dozen conversations passing over her head as the girls around her tried to snatch seconds on conversation from Aurelius, they slowly hobbled through the door into the Great Antonian Gardens.

The air was muggy and moist, but for once, it just smelled of clean soil. Winding stone paths cut through little terraced gardens, the low murmur of people seemed to almost become muted, lost in the dense jungle foliage. While there were overhead mana lamps, the stone path itself glowed with soft light when stepped on. Moths of dreamy blues fluttered around them, clustering around the moisture forming on the glass panes and flying up to the lamps above. Occasionally, Hazel glimpsed colorful green and red birds hiding among the branches. But they all slept, clustered together in little wooden houses, even their nests not allowed to look a mess.

Looking around, Hazel saw that the girls surrounding them were not the only ones dressed in enough fabric to outweigh a small child. The crowd seemed to be caught up in an arms race of trying to outdo each other. The men wore doublets or justicorps heavily embroidered with gold or shimmering with glittering Fabric. Women wore hoops wider than they were tall, heavy jewelry featuring audaciously loud gemstones. Lace was in abundance, bursting out of every seam imaginable. Hair was styled and curled at the absolute limit, standing at absolutely angles that were impossible without augmenting their Fabric.

Hazel and Aurelius were just barely on the edge of being underdressed. Hell, Zinnia stood out more by wearing what were essentially street clothes with barely enough jewelry to bludgeon someone to death.

And Hazel couldn’t quite shake the feeling like people were staring at her. She tried to tell herself that they were probably staring at Aurelius. She was more like an adjacent sideshow to him…. Which meant they probably were actually staring at her. Damn it all. Hazel huddled deeper under her hat.

Music drifted over them as they entered the central dome. The floor was an interlocking pattern of brown and green stones, completely empty save for the fancy people milling about. But along the edges of the dome every ten feet or so was a sculpture woven of living wood. Flowering vines hung from the ceiling in uneven artful curtains. Two additional wings opened to the left and right, smaller and darker geodesic domes filled with different varieties of plants. A small orchestra played on a stage along the rear wall.

Aurelius’ grip suddenly tightened and she was pulled forward several steps, his voice rising louder.

“Ah, Sir Carillo! Wonderful to see you up and about!” Aurelius cried. “Miss Webb and Miss Scarlet,” he nodded to them both in turn. “This is Sir Carillo, the illustrious head of our finest opera — the Pealing Bell Theatre Troupe!”

And just like that she was off and ‘schmoozing.’ Hazel didn’t consider herself an introvert, far from it. She liked striking up conversations with strangers, was just fine with small talk, and didn’t hate crowds. She sucked up a group’s enthusiasm like a sponge.

But her mind was elsewhere, frazzled and fraying. She introduced herself, yes. Told people she was a witch specializing in healing. Very few people cocked their eyebrows at that, expecting nothing else from her. They simply asked things like ‘how was the flight?’ ‘Where was she from?’ The basics. Edelweiss, for his part, settled solidly on her shoulders, tensely watching the crowds around her. Sometimes when he was stiff and still like that, people seemed to consider him a fancy taxidermy — as horrifying as that was to Hazel.

Whenever the conversation moved, she let it move. And yet, Aurelius kept pulling her back along, as if it was a favor he was doing for her. She thought they’d have to run out of people to talk to eventually, and yet, the crowds never ceased. And it wasn’t just the woman who flocked about him. People seemed inexplicably drawn to him. And while she thought it may have something to do with his supposed pedigree, whatever that was, it was clear he did more than ride the tails of his birthright.

Aurelius had a way of consistently pausing mid sentence. Each word lingering in his throat, cherished by his tongue. The listener would lean in, they expected what came next. He added clicks, drawls, making each word tumble, like a river over a cascade of pebbles. Making you think more about what his tongue was doing, what it could be doing. Each word was the purr of a cat, drawn out, rumbling, begging to be touched.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He held his hands with theatrical flourish. Just as one would watch the dancer and wonder, why do their moves seem so graceful? What are they doing that you could not do? But if you try it yourself, the artfulness is lost. You can move, but Aurelius could dance. Dance with the slightest twirls of his hands, the shifting of his head, the expression on his face. The way he moved his hips and rolled his shoulders were just as practiced and refined as the dancer’s.

The result was that Aurelius drew them in like a fisher pulls in a catch. Offering slack when the fish pulled, listening intently with an excited smile. But pulling back to himself, drawing attention to his grace and beauty. In this way he was stringing multiple people along.

To what end? What happened when the fish was caught, cut from the line and dropped in the bucket? Was Hazel overthinking this metaphor? Did nobody else see what she saw? Or did they know, yet all still begged for a piece of him anyway? He apparently represented the Asphodel family. Getting his attention meant getting his influence, his wealth, his beauty, everything he promised with his drawled words and sultry movements.

But there was something else going on here! That was some heavy, heavy spellweave attached directly into his flesh. And from her experience with mental magic, Death was not a light weight on the mind.

“Attention! Attention everyone!”

Hazel looked about just as a woman’s amplified voice called out from the stage. She was dressed almost the exact opposite of Hazel, wide hoop skirt, huge hair, and an opalescent fabric that shifted between a rainbow of colors. She held a simple rod in her hand that occasionally flickered with threads of yellow.

“Thank you for coming to the grand reopening of The Great Antonian Gardens!” the woman called out. “I feel so blessed to have everyone here! When I was a girl —” She dove into a long and pretty speech that flowed in one ear and out the other. Hazel could feel herself dozing, only snapping out of it when the woman clapped and said, “— And that’s why the palms of White Cliffs are the prettiest in the world. Now here’s a word from our most generous sponsor, Lord Asphodel!”

There was polite applause. In the silence afterwards, there was a loud and uneven rapping.

Rap. Rap. Rap.

Hazel watched as a man in a red captain’s coat crossed the stage. He stood tall, back straight, but leaned heavily on a black lacquer cane, a shorter woman with long black curls holding him by the other arm. Hazel got the impression by the way he moved that he was an elderly old man. But he had clearly fleshwoven his age away. All wrinkles had been erased from his pale ash face, all gray hairs erased from his shining jet black hair. But there was no hiding his limp, the weakness in his old bones. Hazel knew if she blinked (she didn't, one headache was enough) she’d see the old man’s fabric fraying and waning, Life giving way to Death. A beautifully embroidered red coat hung around his shoulders, held in place by multiple gold and red aiguillette ropes, gold epaulettes shaking slightly on each shoulder.

Zinnia elbowed Aurelius. “Is that your dad?”

“By the gods, do I look that old?” Aurelius cried, aghast in mock offense. “He’s my Grandfather, darling!”

“Oh right…. Aurelius Asphodel…” Hazel said idly.

Lord Asphodel took the amplifier, the woman holding his elbow as the elderly man steadily leaned against his cane. He opened his mouth, and drew out the moment before he said,

“Good evening, my fine flock.”

His voice was soft and wheedling, like an old wooden flute. He frequently paused, just like Aurelius did, but there was a richness and comfort to his voice. Like someone used to public speaking.

“I have seen it,” he said. “Here. Today. In the streets lined with fronds. In the docks lined with wealth. In the cliffs, still true and proud. The people. A true, true beauty.” He cocked his head, lifting the fingers on his cane as if reaching for something, but unable to. “I have seen these fine people crawl from the protection of the bay. I have them grow beyond it. Multiply in wealth. In prosperity. And today, we recapture the smallest fragment of that natural beauty that once surrounded the bay.” He rolled his fingers on the amplifier, pausing as if he was picking his words. “This—“ He waved languidly about the room. “—beauty. That our glory has replaced. Never forget. The jungle we burned to lift ourselves up. This beauty has not been lost. But it is preserved, as we supplant it with something greater. Mankind.”

He took a short, wobbling bow. There was more polite applause as Lord Asphodel was gently led off the stage by his assistant. Hazel thought that was the end of it, and she’d go right back to her halfhearted schmoozing. But Aurelius held tightly onto her waist. She gave him a strange look, but he merely smiled, and nodded his head into the crowd.

Moving with a rapid yet lumbering gate, Lord Asphodel hobbled his way towards their little group. Where they clustered around Aurelius, they parted for Lord Asphodel, casting their praises and calls for attention at his uncaring feet.

“Aurelius, my dearest treasure!” Lord Asphodel cried, toothsome grin wide and sparkling..

“Dearest grandfather!” Aurelius cried.

Hazel suddenly became acutely aware that Asphodel’s assistant was staring at her. She had a vague feeling of deja vu, like she knew or had met this person. But she decided it was impossible. Hazel smiled awkwardly and gave a short wave, and at last the woman looked away.

Still leaning heavily on his cane, Lord Asphodel flung his other arm open wide, his heavy coat fluttering behind him. Hazel got the impression that he was a little underdressed too. Just a simple white shirt with a red cravat and sash as accents. She wondered if it was some sort of statement.

Aurelius laughed nervously. “I’m not a boy anymore, my dearest.”

But Aurelius stepped forward anyway, embracing the elderly man. Lord Asphodel was a whole head taller than Aurelius, and hugged him tightly around the shoulder. When Asphodel kissed Aurelius on his white curls, Hazel definitely thought that was too much affection for an adult man, even if that man was his ‘dearest grandson.’

The hug quickly broke off, and Lord Aurelius turned his gaze towards Hazel. This close, she could see he had the same eyes as Aurelius, but his were a fiery ruby red, so bright they were nearly lost into his whites.

“And who are these fine ladies you brought?” Asphodel asked.

“Zinnia Scarlet,” Aurelius said with a flourish of his hands. “A fine performer of many arts, magic included.”

Zinnia grabbed her hat by a bangle and spun it off her head in an impromptu graceful flourish. Hazel noticed Lord Asphodel was impressed, but not by the dance. His gaze lingered on the low cut of her blouse.

Hazel huffed. Zinnia dressed provocatively, but it was a little creepy for an old man to be stealing leery looks. Hazel adjusted her shawl to expose as little skin as possible and stepped forward.

“Hazel Webb,” she said, holding out a hand. “Researcher from Vivania University. I study Psychomagical Healing.”

Lord Asphodel laughed, a creaking thing, but took her hand and shook it. “Goodness me, Psycho… magical… Healing was it? I’m feeling my age. I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

Hazel nodded. “It’s a new field. We seek to repair wounds of the mind, such as those caused by the stress of battle or overwhelming loss.”

“Really?” he said. “Is that so?”

It seemed like he had already lost interest. Hazel was used to that; small talk didn’t need or require long winded explanations or true heart to hearts.

What she wasn’t used to were his eyes. He didn’t leer. Didn’t peep. Just cocked his head and stared down into her eyes, as if he was reading something there.

“Hazel Webb, eh?” he said.

Something in Hazel squirmed. Lord Asphodel said her names like he was tasting the words on his tongue. She saw, despite his advanced age, he had perfectly white and straight teeth, fangs, and the Deathly affinity they implied, apparent.

“A pleasure, but I must be going. I just stopped to greet my dearest Aurelius.” As he passed by, he leaned down and whispered something in Aurelius’ ear. It was brief, and the younger man quickly straightened. “You should bring them around the old manor for drinks sometime, Aurelius.”

“I don’t drink,” Hazel said, off guard. “Makes me weepy.”

Lord Asphodel chuckled, long and breathy. “Tea, then. On a fine afternoon.”

He gave Aurelius’ shoulder one last firm shake, then his helper took his arm and helped walk him towards the door. Despite her earlier stare, the assistant now seemed uninterested in Hazel, focused entirely on helping the old man walk his way through the parting crowd.

Hazel locked eyes with Zinnia, and mouthed behind Aurelius’ back, ‘creepy.’ Zinnia nodded, and gave a little smile showing she was okay.

Edelweiss suddenly shot up on Hazel’s shoulders. He declared, “Lady Webb! They have fish eggs!!” He pointed his snout to a man in a black tailcoat who held aloft a tray of cheese, crackers, and of course, caviar.

“Okay, calm down,” Hazel said with a laugh. “Go on ahead you two, I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t get Edelweiss some caviar.”

It was as good an excuse as any to peel away. As soon as she flagged down the server, Zinnia and Aurelius had already vanished into the crowds, right back to ‘schmoozing.’ But as Hazel piled the snacks on a small provided plate, she closed her eyes and peeked out into the Life-flooded Fabric. She could still clearly see the deathly curse of Aurelius’ hovering among the shining white of a lively crowd. She wondered briefly if Lord Asphodel had something similar. But he was already long gone, so she blinked the image away, blowing the tension in her head away.

Hazel hovered on the edge of the party, standing between two of the woven tree statues and just trying to get her head in order. She held a plate of cheese-covered crackers, the caviar scraped off into a pile for Edelweiss. He was eating it by the mouthful, and actually saying ‘thank you’ for once in his tiny life.

But this time, she was grateful to have an excuse to sit by the wall. She was exhausted, unsettled, and just plain sick of selling herself.

She was on her second plate when she realized Aurelius had peeled himself from the crowds, practically gliding past shoulders and skirts. It took her a moment to realize he was approaching her. Hazel’s heart gave a squeeze as Aurelius locked eyes with her and flashed an easy smile. Hazel looked around frantically, and handed her plate to a serving woman.

“My eggs!” Edelweiss cried.

Edelweiss lept from Hazel’s shoulders. The serving woman cried out as her platter suddenly gained the full weight of a tiny dragon on it, and the whole thing went crashing to the ground. Hazel put her hands close to her face, pausing right before she mussed her makeup, and took deep, steadying breaths. She heard Aurelius step close, a cool breeze following him in muggy crowds.

He chuckled and said, “I know I said you could put in minimum effort, darling… But don’t you think this is a little too little?”

Hazel laughed weakly up at the man. Edelweiss reared up from the collapsed platter, the server collecting crackers and glaring at the tiny dragon.

“I was glad to be rid of you,” Edelweiss said plainly at Aurelius, black eggs smeared on his snout. “You stink of rats.”

Aurelius’ face went blank for a moment. But in a blink he was laughing, and waving the thought away with a twirl to his wrist.

“Oh! Is that all?” he said. “His Lordship Asphodel loves breeding fancy rats. Yes, I know, but don’t be so hasty to judge! They’re rather like small dogs – very smart and loveable! But I suppose they do have a pungent smell… I thought my cologne covered it!”

Hazel instinctively inhaled. An herbal citrusy smell cut through the heat of the crowds. She cursed her own curiosity.

“That aside…” Aurelius did a small bow and held out his hand with a flourish. In a low voice that purred in his throat, he said, “Dance with me, darling.”

Hazel stared at the hand. The image of the black Fabric lingering on the path flashed through her mind. She had no time to weave defenses. If she took his hand… But perhaps this was an opportunity? She’d notice if Death’s Fabric clung to her, and notice if it controlled her. Somehow. That’s all.

So she held out her hand. Aurelius quirked a little smile. He wove his cool and smooth fingers through hers. With a tug of his wrist, she was pulled forward. He pulled her hand up, and gently brushed her fingers against his lips. She could feel him exhale, a gentle breeze.

Her heart hammered. Fear? Or…

Craving?

She stepped forward again, locking eyes with him. Aurelius held her gaze, and led her to the dance floor with his gentle, soft grip. She heard Edelweiss tutting behind her. But she didn’t listen. She didn’t dare blink. She didn’t want to see that horror flowing around this man, or see how much of it was flowing around her. Not now. Not now.

They reached the center of the floor. He tugged her forward. She stumbled, and fell against his chest. Her heart hammered. Citrus and herbs… dammit! She stepped back, but with a twist of his arm, she felt her movement snap with grace. Her skirts swayed around her.

“Trust my lead, darling,” he softly crooned.

Aurelius took both her hands now, weaving both of his hands together with hers. He pulled her arms in an arc, and said, “Arms straight.”

She straightened her arms, and he pushed his weight with hers. She almost fell, but he caught her in his grip, and yanked her back.

“Good,” he said. “Now keep them bent…”

She did. He turned, and with his turn, pulled her along and he spun her around behind him. She stumbled, but he caught Hazel firmly by the waist, and in one smooth motion pulled her back into his embrace. Her hat flew off, but he caught that as well, and plopped it back on her head. As if it was all part of the dance.

It only took a few practice motions, but she got the gist rather quickly. Hazel didn’t really know how to dance. But she didn’t need to. Aurelius led, and she followed. He slowly twirled, and she let herself be pulled along. He pushed her away, pulled her close, and her skirts spun and flowed behind her. It didn't matter that her steps were awkward. In his hands, her movements gained his grace.

She had seen him lead on so many. She knew the fisherman’s tricks he deployed. But here, with his gaze full of longing directed her way, with a seductress’ smile, and the gentle way he held her. She understood with her whole burning body why the fish took the bait.

With one twist of his wrist and a mighty pull, she thudded against his chest again. She was panting, but his breathing stayed even. The look on his face captivated her. The piercing gaze was softened by heavy lids. Smile tender, relaxed, as if all was right in the world, just having her in his arms.

Her heart hammered. ‘Ah,’ she thought, ‘How can he possibly fake such a pure and simple longing?’

He leaned in to kiss her cheek. And with all her body and soul, she craved his lips on her skin.

He yanked himself back. Edelweiss had landed on her shoulder and snapped at his nose, hissing.

“Edelweiss!” Hazel cried out.

Edelweiss hissed again, and Aurelius stepped back, still maintaining his grace and dignity. His fingers finally left her hands, and her fingers felt so small and lonely without his firm grip. He held his hands up defensively and gave Hazel a sad smile, apologetic, but with longing still in his eyes.

Edelweiss shifted on her shoulder, wings flaring. “I know you are still missing your mate, Hazel. But I do not trust this one. Choose another.”

Hazel took a shuddering breath. Was that all this was? She blinked, and looked at the Fabric of her hands. His Fabric of Death lingered, but was fading rapidly. Just the remnants of his threads spinning away into the air. It had not been incorporated into her Fabric.

Hazel clasped and unclasped her hands, watching the threads fade. But her heart still hammered. She wanted…And yet her heart still hammered, her body still yearned.

‘Yes,’ she thought. ‘Just loneliness.’

“Ah,” Aurelius said. “You’re mourning a relationship lost, are you? Forgive me for overstepping my bounds.”

He gave his favorite little bow, twirling his hands as he leaned over. But in her second sight, the motion became a muddy blur of black, the clawing hand in his head firmly following his head into the bow.

She clenched her hands and took a steadying breath, blinking back to the smiling man before her.

“Aurelius,” she said. “When you have a moment, I’d… I would like to have a conversation with you. In private.”

Aurelius lifted his eyebrows and smiled. He brought his hand to his cheek and quipped, “Darling! I know you’re feeling lonely, but there’s no need to rush things.”

“It’s not that,” Hazel said calmly. “I just think you might be my first client.”