Claire Delacroix (16 page)

Bard poured her a finger’s depth in the bottom of a glass and offered it to Aurelia. “Try it first. See if you like it.”

The vessel he handed her was like a chalice, stemmed and shaped like an inverted bell, but wrought of very thin glass. Aurelia was amazed yet again at the craftsmanship they all took for granted.

Their fingers brushed in the transaction and Aurelia fought to hide any sign of the way her heart stopped. Those green eyes never wavered from her, though, and she deliberately turned her attention to the wine. Her very flesh tingled in awareness and, yet again, Aurelia felt that Bard could read her thoughts.

Why could he not have been born a wretchedly ugly man?

Aurelia sniffed the wine and found its aroma quite pleasing. Under Bard’s watchful eye, she cautiously sipped. The juice tasted of richness and sunshine - Aurelia closed her eyes as she rolled this wine across her tongue and imagined herself in this warmer clime, a place so warm that she could bare her very flesh to the sun. In her mind’s eye, a handsome warrior who was not entirely unfamiliar bent to brush his lips temptingly across her own.

Then she heard Bard chuckle. Aurelia’s eyes flew open.

He had read her thoughts again!

And now he laughed. Oh, he must think her a fool to have fallen so readily for his scheme! Aurelia felt herself flush scarlet.

“You look completely entranced.” Bard’s voice was low with a thread of humor, his lips quirked at one corner. His eyes gleamed as though he was talking about more than the wine.

Had he guessed that she found him dangerously handsome? Aurelia felt uncharacteristically flustered at the prospect. She was not used to people reading her thoughts so easily - usually she was the perceptive one!

And she certainly was not used to being so aware of a man. There had been warriors in her father’s court anxious to win her attention, but Aurelia had easily ignored them.

Bard, however, was markedly difficult to ignore. He spoke to her as though he cared for more than her fine features, which proved to have a dangerous allure.

That he knew her weakness for him only rubbed salt into Aurelia’s wounded pride.

“I like it very much,” she said formally.

And she held out her goblet for more.

* * *

Chapter Ten

This pizza, however, did not rate so well in Aurelia’s estimation. A kind of bread, it was slathered with a red sauce of considerable spice, the entire thing smelling of fish. She certainly had known better fare, but hoped no one noticed her circumspect examination of the food.

She had no such luck.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” Julian asked and tossed his piece back on the board. He took a deep draught of his wine as though he would wash the taste from his mouth, then reached for the glass flagon to refill his goblet. “Aurelia? Could you use a bit more?”

Aurelia nodded. To her surprise, once Julian was done, he lifted his goblet in a toast. “To Aurelia’s superb taste! May none of us ever have to eat pizza like this again!”

And he drained his goblet once more.

Aurelia, not wanting to antagonize the priest after having won a measure of his acceptance, followed suit.

“You don’t have to eat it,” Bard muttered darkly.

Julian filled his glass to the brim. “Good. More wine?” His question came too late for Aurelia to have stopped his refilling of her goblet. He winked. “It gets better by the fourth glass.”

This made no sense to Aurelia but she said nothing, stoically continuing to eat her pizza.

“Really, Baird, darling, it’s just too terribly fishy!” Marissa dropped her pizza back onto the board. “I don’t even eat fish with this strong of a flavor!” She sipped at her wine, her gaze locked on Bard.

“I thought you were ravenous,” that man commented.

Marissa rolled her eyes. “Desperation, darling, is quite another thing. And I’m certain I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.”

Bard eyed the whore’s half-eaten slice of pizza dubiously, then his glance flicked to meet Aurelia’s. She saw a skepticism there that she certainly shared - why, Marissa had not eaten enough to sustain a mere rat!

“Well, it’s all there is,” Bard said tightly. He looked to Aurelia again, his eyes tellingly bright. “Will you have another piece?”

Aurelia was not about to slight the hospitality of her host, however barbaric his court might be. A princess had to show some dignity, after all.

And she was very, very hungry.

She wiped her hands fastidiously on her oddly thin napkin and eyed one of the other pizzas. Aurelia was curious to know what all three tasted like but was mindful of her decision to eat only what Bard ate first.

“Shall we try the other one?” she suggested and Bard grinned.

“Absolutely.” He fired an arch glance to his courtiers, both of whom grimaced with distaste and drew back.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, princess.” Bard offered the pizza and Aurelia took a piece, sipping her wine until he had taken the first bite.

Then she practically inhaled her second piece. Gods and goddesses, had she ever been so hungry?

“Whoa!” Julian whistled through his teeth. “You look like you haven’t eaten in a thousand years!”

Vulgar man! Aurelia glanced scornfully in his direction. “I have always been blessed with a healthy appetite.”

Marissa snorted. “I should say so! I could never have eaten more, even if it had been one of Sebastien’s glorious pizzas!”

To Aurelia’s surprise, it was Bard who came to her defense. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman being honest enough to eat like a human being.”

The whore straightened proudly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Only that most women pick at their food and eat about three bites a meal. It’s not good for you to eat so little.” Surprisingly, he granted Aurelia a smile. “The princess obviously has a good appetite and enjoys food. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

The glint in Bard’s eyes made Aurelia’s resistance to him melt a little more. She felt that the room had become much warmer, though it maybe it was finally having something in her belly. Aurelia cleared her throat, uncomfortable to be the sole point of his interest, and tried to laugh.

“One must always take advantage of an opportunity to eat,” she said lightly. “My mother often said that one never knew when there would be a meal again.”

“Let alone a good one,” Julian interjected.

Bard ignored his priest. “Sound advice,” he concurred.

Marissa snorted. “For vagrants, it makes wonderful sense.”

“My third foster mother said the same thing and I always believed it,” Bard retorted. “Despite an unsettled childhood, I’ve never actually been called a vagrant before.”

Marissa’s eyes went round and she immediately began making fulsome apologies.

Bard ignored his whore and offered the third pizza to Aurelia, “Should we try this one, princess? I don’t think Julian’s going to do this Vegetarian Special justice.”

“Oh, yes!” Aurelia took a piece and Marissa inhaled sharply.

“Give me that!” she snapped and snatched up a slice of pizza.

The priest chuckled to himself and drained his wine once more. “Is the prey really worth the price of the hunt, Marissa?” he murmured inexplicably.

Aurelia glanced between them all in confusion and caught the end of the wicked look the whore fired Julian’s way. There was the evil eye in action, if ever she had seen it! Aurelia concentrated on her pizza for fear of attracting such malice to herself.

“You just go ahead and finish up that cheap wine, Julian, darling.” Marissa’s voice was a low with animosity. “You’ll regret it in the morning, you can be sure.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Julian leaned forward unexpectedly, the flagon in his hand. “What do you say we make a bet, Aurelia?”

She looked warily to the priest, wondering what his game might be. “A bet?”

“Sure. You may be able to eat more pizza than our Marissa, but can you drink more wine than me?”

Aurelia surveyed the priest who was her competition in more matters than this. “You mean to make a wager.”

“Yeah, just a little friendly competition.” Julian topped up her goblet with a flourish and waggled his eyebrows expressively. “There’s nothing else to do around this damned place.”

“Careful, princess,” Bard warned with a smile. “This man likes his wine.” He offered the first pizza again, much to Aurelia’s relief. This fare was not terribly filling. Aurelia took another slice while she considered Julian’s offer.

A challenge over fruit juice. The Viking pride Aurelia had inherited from her sire would not let her turn him down.

“And what do I win?” she demanded saucily.

“Satisfaction!” Julian said and lifted his glass high.

Oh, there would be that, Aurelia was certain! If she could best Bard’s priest in any matter - even one so minor as this - she would be more convinced of the power of her own abilities against his own.

And less convinced of the efficacy of his own. That would be no small thing.

Aurelia lifted her glass high. “To the end of the wine,” she declared and Julian laughed aloud.

“Or of us, whichever comes first!”

* * *

Two hours later, Aurelia and Julian had drunk the better part of four bottles of wine and Julian was wrestling with the cork of a fifth. Aurelia was feeling very, very relaxed.

And more than a little bit happy. She liked the Chianti well, and felt more carefree than she had in quite some time.

Perhaps it was because Bard had settled back in his chair, his green gaze burning bright as he watched her. Aurelia supposed that they were all providing his entertainment, but for the moment, she did not care.

She felt very feminine beneath his regard and very much alive. A small smile toyed with his lips and with each glass of juice, the hum of desire deep within Aurelia buzzed a little harder.

Julian tugged savagely on the strange curly implement he had inserted into the cork, but to no avail. “Whoa! This is a tight one!” He turned it some more, grimaced and pulled again.

The cork did not move, but Aurelia laughed at Julian’s antics. Truly, Bard had no need of a fool with this priest in his household!

“Oh, you make too much of too little!” she scoffed, the curious heat in her veins making her playful.

“Oh yeah?” Julian grinned. “You’re drinking as much of it as me - you open this one.”

“I do not know the spell!”

Julian managed to look innocent. “What spell?”

Aurelia chuckled. “You will not trick me that easily into matching my powers against yours!” She shook a finger at an apparently astonished Julian. “You do not fool me with your jest!”

“What jest?”

“Pretending that you cannot conjure that cork out the bottle in the blink of an eye!” Aurelia scoffed. “A powerful priest such as you. For shame!”

Marissa trilled the same odd laugh she had given when explaining the magic of the peephole to Aurelia. No one joined her laughter, or even acknowledged it.

Julian blinked and slanted a glance to Bard.

Bard leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Priest?” he echoed quietly.

“Oh, surely anyone with their wits about them could see that Julian is your advisor! Who else would have the king’s ear but a priest? Julian is certainly not a warrior, with that strange garb!” Aurelia chuckled to herself that they should pretend the truth was anything other than what it obviously was.

Silence filled the restaurant, but Aurelia was oblivious to the stares of her three companions. She drained the last of her wine and held out her goblet for more with a winning smile.

For fruit juice, it was quite good. A bit of a tang - likely the grapes had tainted slightly during the shipping Bard talked about - but it was flavor one could grow to like.

“If I concede that the powers Rome grants to its priests are far greater than imagined, would you open that cursed bottle and share it contents?”

Julian sat down with a thump, his grip loosened on the flagon of wine. He held her gaze as steadily as an owl. “I’m not a priest, Aurelia. I’m a lawyer.”

Lawyer? There was a word that had no meaning for Aurelia - it must be simply some distinction between grades of priesthood.

“Call yourself what you will!” Aurelia waved off this qualification. “Let us have the wine.” Aurelia dropped her voice and leaned closer to Julian, taking a confidential tone. “You know, for mere fruit juice, this wine has an effect not unlike mead.”

“Mead? Dear God, you have drunk mead?” Marissa looked to be smothering a laugh. “Darling, I thought only rural heathens drank that stuff. Likely because they could not afford anything better.”

Aurelia fixed the other women with a stern glance. Her garb this evening was no less revealing, for all its apparent modesty. Marissa’s ankles were on full display and her chausses emphasized the roundness of her rump in a most forward manner.

“I suppose,” Aurelia said with all the hauteur she could summon, “that mead is beneath the fine tastes of an overly indulged whore like yourself.”

“Whore?” Marissa blanched and her mouth dropped open before she bounded to her feet. “Whore? How dare you call me a whore?”

“Oh, I dare,” Aurelia said smoothly. She eyed the emptiness of her goblet pointedly, then glanced to Julian. He seemed to be struggling not to laugh and had apparently forgotten the wine completely. “Though it matters little. The truth is painfully obvious to anyone who even glances at this travesty of a court.”

“Well, I never...!”

“I should think you have,” Aurelia retorted. “And often.” She met the other woman’s gaze with a serene smile and shrugged. “Why else would the king indulge you so freely?”

Julian began to laugh, but a hard light glittered in Marissa’s eyes. “The king, well!” The whore laughed awkwardly and glanced at Bard. “Where did you find her, darling? Under a rock?”

“Close to it,” Bard commented evenly without even glancing to Marissa. “Why don’t you tell us who you really are, Aurelia?”

Aurelia tried to sweep to her feet regally at the implication that her word was not to be believed, but stumbled instead.