Jeweled (21 page)

She hated to admit it, but the book was interesting.

For two days she’d refused to pick it up. She’d set it on the dresser in her room and ignored it. This afternoon, as Anatol was on his way out the door for the afternoon, he’d put it in her hands. “Try it,” he’d urged her. “I read it while I was at Belai even though it was a forbidden book.”

“Forbidden?” she’d asked.

“Illicitly published, like Gregorio’s tracts. The whole story is in there.” He’d tapped the cover and left the house.

She’d watched him leave the house, bound for she didn’t know where. She didn’t like that he was leaving. The Revolutionaries were still out there, yet they could hardly be expected to stay inside Gregorio’s town house for months on end.

The day had been beautiful. Unusually warm for so early in the spring, so she’d taken a glass of wine out onto the porch and settled in to at least look at the book, which had been carefully copied by hand and was probably quite valuable. Soon she’d been leafing through pages as fast as she could read.

Apparently there had been all sorts of inventions in recent years, but the royals had forced the shutdown of most of them, save the ones that benefited them in some way or had improved their lives—like artificial light and heating, for example. The rest of the inventions had been gathered up, placed in a large storage facility, and locked up. The royals, the book posited, feared the inventions would take power from their hands and place it in the hands of the merchants and manufacturers, changing the face of Milzyr’s economy forever.

Evangeline wasn’t sure she believed any of it, but that wasn’t the most interesting part of the book for her anyway. She loved reading about the various inventions, both those in progress and those already created. She wanted to go see and touch them for herself. Things like a small steam-powered transport that would replace the carriage, though she couldn’t see why that was necessary. Or a contraption that would actually stitch material, a thing that sounded wonderful and unbelievable to her. She couldn’t imagine how it might be accomplished.

“Like the book?”

Evangeline squealed in surprise and jerked, almost tossing the book to the ground. She looked up to find Gregorio in the doorway with an apple in one hand. “Do you have to sneak up on people that way?”

“I made lots of noise in the kitchen. I figured you knew I was here.”

“No.” She pinched her face a little, unwilling to give him an inch. “I’ve been engrossed in my reading.”

He grinned at her and then took a snapping bite out of the apple. Just looking at him that way, leaning up against the door frame, his thick hair mussed and his top shirt buttons undone, made her stomach do a little flip. An unwanted flip.

Making sure he saw she was curling her lip at him, she gave her attention to the book once more and hoped he’d go away.

Instead, he sat down in the chair next to her. The man could not take a hint.

She lifted her gaze from the page to find him staring.

“Where did Pearl go?” Pearl was the cook.

“She went to the market. She’s getting ingredients for dinner. Giana is cleaning the upstairs as we speak.”

“And where’s Anatol?”

She frowned, glancing down at her book and adjusting her position in the chair. “Out. He wouldn’t tell me where he was going.” She didn’t want to admit it bothered her that Anatol would keep a secret from her.

He didn’t say anything else, so she attempted to finish the paragraph she’d already started twice.

Gregorio took another bite of his apple. “Beautiful day.”

With a sigh, she gave up and closed the book. “Why aren’t you at Belai?”

“I decided to take the rest of the day off.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really? I thought I’d never hear you say something like that.”

“I decided that for everyone’s well-being, I need to relax a little. Things get tense with so many opinions vying for attention.” He took another bite of apple and chewed. “The representatives from the provinces have arrived and it’s mass confusion. Everyone speaks at the same time and over everyone else. Most of them want the same things, but are saying it all differently and none of them will listen long enough to realize it.”

Smugness washed over her. “I could have told you that would happen. Not
everyone
can have a say in government. Not
everyone’s
ideas can be realized. Not
everyone
can be right.”

“I agree with you, Evangeline. That’s why majority rules. There are votes, wherein everyone gets to register their opinion, but, in the end, it’s the numbers that make the decision. The most votes wins.”

“I predict discord.”

He laughed. “Oh, I do, too, Evangeline. Beautiful, tumultuous discord during which everyone gets their voice heard, if not all of their dreams realized.”

Sniffing, she glanced away from him. “Better than what was before.”

“Much. In this system of government the people will be healthy enough to make their will known. There’s a loaf of bread for every peasant table these days now that the royals are gone.”

“Dead, you mean.”

His face shuttered. “Some survived. Many J’Edaeii as well. They’re free now, though they’ve been stripped of their wealth. Now they must make it on their own merit.”

Yes, and she was still deciding what she was going to do in this brave new world where her magick was a hindrance instead of an honor.

“Speaking of which, I would like to offer you some sewing lessons. I know you were taking them before Anatol was captured. I was hoping you’d want to continue down that path. Anatol tells me you’re very talented, and clothing design could be a way for you to stand on your own financially.”

She looked down at the cover of the book, tracing the title with her fingertip. “I can’t accept your generosity, Gregorio. You’ve already done so much for us as it is. Anatol is healed now. We should be leaving your house, not making ourselves more beholden to you.”

“You are not and will never be beholden to me for anything, Evangeline. And you’re most certainly welcome to stay as long as you wish. In fact, I hope that you both
do
stay. It’s been much less lonely in my house with you and Anatol here, and Anatol has been helping me understand the perspective of the noble people, who, after all, are part of the governance themselves now. They also have a say.”

Yes, but it was dangerous for her to stay here. Dangerous because of her attraction to Gregorio. She wanted Gregorio, that was true—but she didn’t want messy emotional complications. She’d barely managed to learn to control her newfound empathy; adding Gregorio into the mix now would throw her into chaos again.

She needed
less
emotion, not more. Anatol, she was sure, would disagree with her. He would tell her she needed to explore all her newfound feelings, not look for ways to suppress them.

She studied Gregorio. This man ignited all sorts of new feelings in her.

“You never answered my question.”

She looked up from the cover of the book and realized she’d been lost in thought. “It’s true I will need to find some sort of livelihood for myself and I enjoy designing clothes.”

“Good. It’s settled then. I’ll have Emily come over first thing tomorrow morning. The upside is,” he looked pointedly at the book, “she’ll be showing you how to sew on a stitching machine.”

Excitement made her face light up. “Really? Like the one described in this book?”

He nodded. “It’s one of only five in existence. Soon they’ll fill every dressmaker’s shop and be the way all clothing is produced. You’ll be among the first to learn how to do it.”

“That’s—” She swallowed a laugh, again not interested in encouraging him. Yet she was pleased and very excited. “That’s wonderful. Now I’ll have something to do with my days again. I’ve been feeling very idle.”

“What were your days at the palace like?”

“Full from morning until night. Every day I practiced with my magick, getting ready for the day I would audition to become J’Edaeii. Anatol, too. We had classes as well, though education always came second to the training of our magick.”

“Do you want to go back to using your magick on a daily basis?”

“I don’t see any possibilities for that. Most people don’t like to have their emotions manipulated. Anatol’s skill with illusion is perhaps viable since it’s amusing, but my magick is intrusive. It could get me beheaded, even now in this new, glorious, blood-free world.” She couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice toward the end. She laughed. “I suppose I could be a performance artist, dancing and weaving emotion on a street corner for a few coins.”

“So you think it will never again be possible for you to use your magick.”

“Not openly.”

“Not . . . openly?”

She smiled and tilted her head to the side. “Gregorio, I use my magick every day. I’m very empathic.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple working.

“That’s right. I pretty much always know what you’re feeling.”

He hesitated a moment and then leaned forward. “So what am I feeling right now, Evangeline?”

“Lust,” she answered right away. She blinked slowly. “It’s what you’re usually feeling, along with some other flavorings to blend.”

“Any ideas as to why I feel lust so often when I’m around you?”

She looked back at him, holding his gaze coolly. “I have a couple. Maybe just one.”

“There’s only one for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not according to Lilya. She says you’re a regular.”

“Does that bother you, Evangeline?”

“Of course it doesn’t bother me,
Gregorio
,” she snapped. “I’m simply pointing out your lie.”

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his tired face. The half-eaten apple hung in one limp hand draped over the armrest. “I haven’t been to the Temple of Dreams in weeks.”

“Why?”

Gregorio caught and held her gaze. His pupils seemed to grow larger and darker. “Because no woman can compare to the one I want.”

“That’s the real reason you want me and Anatol to stay, isn’t it? Because you think you’ll eventually get to sleep with me.”

“And you, Evangeline, what do
you
want?”

Anatol. Gregorio
. Both of them. Her body wanted them both, but her mind knew it was a bad idea.

She glanced away from him, afraid her eyes might reveal her desire for him. “I want to not be in this situation.”

Anatol appeared on her right, startling her for the second time that afternoon. “What are you two talking about?”

She made a frustrated noise, held her book to her chest, and stood. “Ask Gregorio. I’m going to my room.”

As she left she could hear their exchange. “What’s wrong with her?” Anatol asked.

“Me,” Gregorio answered.

That was true enough.

 

 

Emily came the next morning. She was a thin woman with thick chestnut hair and an easy smile. About her own age, Evangeline found herself warming to her right away. Emily brought several bolts of fabric with her and a container filled with various supplies, some that Evangeline recognized and others she didn’t.

She also brought a heavy iron contraption with her that Anatol helped her to carry and set up before he faded away to do whatever mysterious thing he was doing every day. The stitching machine had a needle set into a small metal piece that moved up and down, presumably into the fabric. Instead of being powered with elusian crystal, there were small pedals that hooked up to the machine to work it.

Evangeline stared at it, trying to figure out how it operated while Emily bustled around, setting things up. Finally Emily stood back. “All right. Ready for your first lesson?”

She smiled. “I can’t wait.” Finally, something to throw herself into that didn’t involve either of the men. Something that would be hers and
only hers
. She hesitated and then added shyly, “I have some designs.”

“Excellent! That will be a great place to begin.”

They spent the day with her designs and the stitching machine. Evangeline ate up every lesson that Emily had to teach and wanted more. She hadn’t been this interested in anything since training for her audition to become J’Edaeii. By the end of the day, Evangeline had made her first stitches on the new machine, beaming the whole time she did it.

Anatol came home in the late afternoon and Evangeline forgot to be grumpy with him for the secret he was keeping. Gregorio came home not long after and they settled in to a dinner of roasted lamb with a rosemary dressing that the cook had prepared.

“Emily tells me your designs show promise.” Gregorio raised a forkful to his mouth.

She suppressed a flush of optimism at the praise. “Yes, but she also told me I would need to change the fabrics I use. They’re too rich for the market I’m aiming to reach.”

“That’s an easy change.”

She frowned. “Not really. The type of fabric determines the cut, the way the dress drapes, all sorts of things.”

“You’re intelligent and resourceful, not to mention determined. I have no doubt that you’ll find a way to make it work. If you need to buy fabric to experiment with, feel free. Money is no object.”

She set her fork down with a displeased sounding clink on the table.

“Don’t you like your dinner?” Gregorio asked.

“The
dinner
is wonderful.”

Gregorio set his glass down and gave her his full attention. “Have I said something to upset you?”

“This is not the Temple of Dreams, Gregorio. There is no price on my body.”

Gregorio frowned. “I didn’t mean—”

“Really? Because that’s how it sounded.” She sighed and removed her napkin from her lap, placing it alongside her plate. “You’ve done too much for us as it is. Maybe it’s time we leave, Anatol.”