Chapter Nine

 

Genevieve

It was just before dawn and Genevieve was wide awake. She had slept comfortably for a few hours after waking from her nightmare, but the feeling that she wasn't alone in her bed was quick to rouse her when the room began to lighten.

Julian, Evie thought, too cowardly to turn and see his sleeping face behind her. I can't believe I asked him to share a bed with me. I can't believe he accepted my request to share a bed with me.

It seemed like madness that she’d asked him to spend the night with her. But Evie hadn’t really expected Julian to agree to keep her company – she was just an idiotic child reacting badly to a nightmare, after all.

Although he said I wasn’t stupid. He was almost kind to me.

Evie didn't know what to do now that she was awake. The bed was narrow and Julian was tall. There was barely enough space for him on it – let alone Evie, too. It meant she was pressed up against him, her legs interlaced with his.

A furious blush began to creep up Evie's neck. I only have an underdress on and it's currently bunched around my thighs! But Evie didn't dare reach down to fix her clothes; she didn't wish to risk waking Julian up. His soft breathing tickled Evie's head, sending errant strands of hair wafting over her face.

The magic's come undone, she thought, picking up a lock of golden hair and inspecting it for signs of having been stuck in a braid for a week. But there was not a single crimp or crease or wave to it – Evie's hair was as straight as if she'd kept it unbound and free instead of tied up.

She huffed out a small breath of air. Magic is so strange. Where does it come from? How did Julian learn to be a wizard? Was he just born this way? He did say wizards tended to be born with an affinity for magic.

With every passing day Evie longed to learn more about him, despite the fact she was wary of telling Julian anything about herself. At this point she wasn't sure why she was keeping her childhood secret; Evie trusted the wizard, after all. For how could she not? Julian had saved her life twice, then chosen to help Evie travel to Willow on foot, and now he was even comforting her when she had bad dreams.

Don't dwell on the dream, she thought, though it was difficult not to. It had been so vivid – so alarming – that when Evie had awoken all she could see around her were thorns. They'd threatened to overcome her; to entrap her; to control her. They represented everything Evie had tried to escape from, the moment she’d decided to climb out of the window of Julian’s tower.

She squeezed her thighs together in discomfort only to remember, too late, that one of Julian's legs was between them. Evie's previous blush grew bolder. She was thankful the wizard was far more clothed than she was, otherwise things would probably have been much worse.

This is still the most indecent I've ever seen him, though, Evie thought. She craned her neck around in order to try and peek at Julian without disturbing him. But he was fast asleep, so Evie risked slowly sliding her legs away from his to turn and face him.

In stark contrast to what he looked like when conscious, Julian’s face was serene as he slept. Without a scowl on his face he looked younger, once more reminding Evie that he really couldn’t be much more than a decade older than her. Although, given their current situation, she sincerely wished she hadn’t thought about such a thing.

Stop it, Evie, she scolded even as she held the fingertips of her right hand millimetres from Julian’s face. But she couldn’t help it; she wanted to know if she could feel…something. Anything. A sign that Julian held the power to set things on fire – to just as easily stun a group of men as he could enchant a young lady’s hair. She wanted to feel that buzz of magic that made her heart sing when his blue eyes began to glow like molten glass.

Then Evie tried to see past the magic she was longing to feel. Beneath it, Julian was a tired man desperately in need of a shave, a haircut and some new clothes. In that respect he was not so dissimilar to Evie herself.

He’s really strong, Evie mused, casting her gaze along the line of Julian’s shoulder and down his arm. He’d carried her onto the bed the night before as if she’d weighed nothing at all. And that’s not to mention how easily he pulled me back into the tower when I was falling! But hidden beneath his cloak Evie had never seen whether Julian actually had the frame to support such strength, or whether he’d used magic to help out every time.

Now she knew. Despite the fact Julian always appeared to be old and tired and unkempt and resigned he was, in fact, a perfectly healthy man who was probably stronger than most even without magic.

And he is handsome, I suppose, Evie thought despite herself. Though it’s not as if he seems to care about his looks all that much. When you’re a powerful wizard I guess it doesn’t matter if women fawn over you for your blue eyes or not.

It made Evie hate her own growing narcissism. Did she honestly care so much about becoming beautiful like her parents? Was that really all she had going for her? She was a princess. Beautiful or not she would have opportunities abound once she returned to Willow and the royal palace.

Her stomach lurched at the thought, so Evie turned from Julian and closed her eyes as if doing so would somehow eliminate all her doubts. But they lingered, ruining the warmth of the sun as it crept over the horizon and ventured through the window into the room.

Just what was waiting for Evie when she returned to her parents? Would they be glad to see her? Or would they be angry? Why was she sent to the tower in the first place? What could the eight-year-old Princess Genevieve have possibly done to warrant such a cold, cruel punishment?

And why was it Julian’s tower?

“Shh,” Julian mumbled against her ear, clearly still fast asleep. Evie hadn’t said anything out loud; she had to wonder if Julian’s power extended into being able to read her mind. She didn’t like that idea one bit.

Perhaps he is dreaming of telling me to shut up, since he has to do it so often when awake, she thought, which was a far more appealing explanation. Evie almost giggled at the idea of her annoying the wizard even in his sleep, but then Julian slung an arm over her waist and pulled her in against him and all such amusing thoughts were lost.

Evie’s eyes darted downward to Julian’s hand, which rested on her stomach. For there was the thrum of magic she had longed to feel earlier, pinning her in place against him. It wasn’t uncomfortable; rather, the peculiar sensation was almost pleasant. Like Julian was keeping her safe.

But he’s doing it in his sleep, she thought. Does he know he’s doing it? Just how powerful is he?

As if in protest to Evie’s brain running through a million questions at once Julian squeezed her against him just a little tighter, and her mind cleared. For soon the wizard would wake up, and then he’d go back to being his usual, dour self. Evie would likely not get an opportunity to spend time with him like this again.

I guess I should make it count, she thought, before snuggling against Julian’s side in much the same manner as she had done when he’d first agreed to share her bed. But things were somehow different than they had been hours before, in the dead of night. Evie felt altogether like she was growing up at a rate far faster than she had done when she was alone in the tower. Sleeping beside a grown man she was not married to was not something she was supposed to do…especially not when her thoughts towards said man were beginning to verge on impure.

But Evie was content to push such troubles off onto another day, along with everything else she had to worry about. The morning sun, and Julian’s soft breathing, and the knowledge that she was free from the tower, was enough to satisfy her.

For now.