Part 3 of 4 wherein Sylf and Ephraim meet.
The Deal
Ephraim exhaled sharply as he stood from his hunched position and reached up to the cloudless sky, stretching his arms. He dropped his arms and rolled his shoulders in circles, trying to work through the dull ache in his muscles. Working in the gardens was always hard work, but he found the labor relaxing and peaceful. It was a strong contrast to his usual day-to-day activities of important decision making and scheming. He stopped rolling his shoulders and brought his right arm across his chest, stretching when something caught the corner of his eye. He turned, and what he saw nearly caused him to jump back into the clematis bush he was so meticulously pruning.
"Atrea!"
The wood elf was sitting on the bench behind him, but she looked different from her appearance in the brothel. Her sleeveless cream blouse and black trousers seemed to be of much finer quality, perhaps even silk. Her tall black boots had a thick heel, which was currently all the rage with the noble ladies. Ephraim knew he paid well, but he never expected a resident of the Undercity to be in such fine clothes. That wasn't even accounting for the rubies glittering in her ears and on her hand.
"It's a wonderful surprise to see you again!" Ephraim said, enthusiastically. In each bouquet he sent to Atrea, about three so far, he always included a short note explaining the bouquet themes and flower meanings, but she never wrote him back once. Initially, he thought it was better to stop sending flowers since she didn't seem interested, but Tommy explained that while Atrea didn't dislike the flowers, she didn't like them either. Naturally, this made complete sense to Tommy and no sense at all to Ephraim. But now he had an opportunity to see her again and learn more about her. While he would prefer that she liked the flowers, if she disliked them, he would know where he stood with her. As things stood between them now, he had no idea how she felt about the flowers, and him.
She didn't respond, staring at him that blank, elvish porcelain expression. He reached down for his rag and dabbed the sweat off the side of his forehead. He didn't know whether to speak again, or if he should wait. He started to shift uncomfortably and before he could say something to break the silence, Atrea spoke.
"You do realize I could have slit your throat at least five times by now and escaped without anyone knowing?"
What- what was that supposed to mean? Ephraim stared at her, disbelieving, when he noticed the knife at her hip. A chill went down his spine. Surely, she wasn't here to murder him…was she?
"Your lack of awareness is astounding. Your advisers are idiots though, so I suppose it shouldn't be a surprise."
Ephraim did a double take. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"
The porcelain expression shifted as her lips curled into a snide smirk. "Your. Advisers. Are. Idiots."
She repeated the phrase slowly, as if he was incompetent. Frustration rose in him. "That is not what I meant."
"Actually, I take that back. Your General's smart. But clearly not smart enough to train you in how to be aware of your surroundings." She continued, ignoring him completely.
"Atrea-"
"He's probably coddling you, thinking you can't handle that sort of mentality."
"What are you doing here, Atrea?" Ephraim cut her off, his hands curled into fists. He didn't think it was possible to go from excitement to anger so quickly, but Atrea managed to surprise him yet again.
Her smirk grew as she said, "What do you mean, Little Princeling? You invited me to come visit for a personal tour of your gardens."
"Why did 'Danna bring you here?" Ephraim almost called the drow "Tommy" but he didn't know how Atrea would react to the knowledge that Tomlyn revealed his real name several weeks ago.
She uncrossed her legs and rose in a fluid motion. She strode over to him and her green eyes locked with his. Ephraim refused to break her gaze first, no matter how much she unnerved him. He doubted she was here to kill him; she seemed the type to do things as quietly as possible. His fingers curled into tight fists and he somehow managed to hold her gaze until she said,
"You keep sending me those ridiculous bouquets. McDanna says you, personally, make them all by hand. I didn't believe him, so he told me to find out." She spread her arms. "And here I am."
She stepped around him and began to look around at the garden. His hands relaxed, though they were still curled into a loose fist.
"I do make them by hand. I like gardening," he said. He wasn't sure how he felt about her response. It seemed like too superficial of an answer for someone as serious as Atrea, but he didn't have anything else to go on for the moment.
She turned to face him. "I realize that. So, aren't you going to show me this garden?"
"After you insulted my advisers?" Ephraim said coolly, crossing his arms. He did want to show her the garden, but he couldn't let her walk all over him either.
She shrugged. "It's not an insult if it's the truth."
"How can that possibly be the truth? What would you know about my advisers?" He snapped. He took back all of his longing and wishes. He didn't want to see her again, and he was definitely going to stop sending her flowers. He was such an idiot!
"Knowing is my job, Little Princeling."
"Don't call me that."
She stared at him blankly again and Ephraim couldn't stand the awful gaze any longer; it reminded him too much of his aunt and uncle. He knelt back down, ignoring her completely, and went back to pruning the bush. That stupid elfin gaze, as though he was stupid, but maybe he was stupid because he thought Atrea was worth seeing again, as though her relationship to Tommy automatically made her worthwhile and-
"What are you doing?"
She was standing over him now.
"Clearly, you are here to mock me. Well, I simply won't stand for it. I am a Prince, after all, and I do have standards with whom I chose to socialize with," he snapped.
"You promised to show me your gardens," she replied coolly.
"I promised that to Lady Emeria!" He struggled to keep his voice from rising. "You certainly are no lady."
When she didn't respond he looked up at her to see the porcelain expression staring back. He looked away as he heard her say, "I see. I suppose that's true." Ephraim immediately felt guilty. That promise was the one bit of truth he was able to eke out of their conversation when she was acting as Lady Emeria. Now, he was throwing it back in her face.
He rose from his knees and stood. Facing her, he sighed, No, it's not. You're right. I did promise you a tour of the gardens."
"But you're also right." She grinned at him in a way that very much reminded him of a wolf about to pounce on a rabbit. "Let's make a deal."
Ephraim crossed his arms. "What kind of deal?"
"You show me your gardens throughout the next two months; by the end of that time, I'll be ready to take another major job again. In return, for each part of the gardens you show me, I'll give you information on each of your advisers to show you how incompetent they are."
Ephraim stared at her, stunned. The deal was certainly easy on his part—he just had to make sure they wouldn't be seen or overheard. But was showing her his gardens really all that he was giving away?
"It will be on a per meeting basis? Meaning, if I agree to show you the white garden today," he gestured to the garden they were presently in, "then, I would not be obligated to meet again?"
"Correct. Though, I have a feeling you'll want to see me again." Her predatory gaze bore into him and, much like the first time he fell under this stare, he wasn't sure that he hated it. Was it wrong if he liked it?
"Alright, I consent to the terms of the deal. I shall show you around the white garden today. This garden is organized in steppes. Since we're near the top, I suggest starting from the top and working our way down."
"As you say, Your Highness." She continued to give him that predatory smile and Ephraim wasn't sure if he preferred the mocking title, or "Little Princeling" instead. How could someone be so equally aggravating and compelling at the same time?
He cleaned himself off as much as he could and he picked up his light blue linen shirt, bunching it up to put his arms through. After his arms slipped through and he began to raise the shirt to pull over his head, he noticed Atrea's gaze on him. No, not on him. She was specifically staring at his chest. Despite the warm day, Ephraim felt his cheeks heat. Her eyes flickered up to his and she smirked at him, as if to say, "oh well, what are you going to do about it?" He pulled the shirt over his head, trying to shove aside his embarrassment from her ogling. It worked well enough as he neatly arranged his tools and then gestured for her to go to the top steppe.
They walked leisurely through the steppe and she seemed attentive as he pointed out the white clematis bushes amid the bed of Daphne and accented with artemisia. He wasn't entirely certain her interest was real, and it was hard to know what Atrea was actually thinking. As they went down to the second steppe, she said,
"Most of the nobles I'm familiar with would rather have servants do their gardening for them. Why not you?"
Ephraim was a little surprised by the question, mostly because it was a personal question. He didn't think she would care that much about his personal interests at all. "Well, I will say we have plenty of servants to maintain the gardens, since they are quite large. But, as for me, I basically grew up in these gardens. Once, when I was a boy, I got angry at my Uncle and decided to run away. I ran all the way to the greenhouse, thinking it was a completely different world. Rickin humored me and soon the gardens became my runaway place. I began to visit all the time and Rickin let me work alongside him, showing me how to prune, water, and plant all kinds of vegetation. By the time I was old enough to realize that I was still on the manor grounds, I was hooked."
She hummed in response and a silence settled between them as they made their way down to the third steppe. The silence made Ephraim nervous. Did she like his story? Did it matter to her? He looked at her, following her gaze to the garden, her eyes roving over the flowers with her blank porcelain expression. His gut began to sink. Why would she care about anything he said? He was, after all, some prince as far away from her world as anyone could be. She was used to dealing with self-absorbed nobles and royalty; why would he be any different?
"What's this one?"
Her voice caught him off guard and it took him a moment to register she was pointing at one of the flower bushes. "It's Jacob's ladder, a spring and summer perennial. The ones up here are white, but there are some light blue ones on the first step for accent and contrast."
She nodded thoughtfully. She…was interested? She was interested! Of course! How could Ephraim forget Atrea Tip Number 7: Atrea doesn't spend time on things she doesn't care about, and, trust me, you'll know if she cares. Thanks, Tommy!
"Is this your favorite garden?" She asked. She sat on a nearby bench, which was positioned to view some of the climbing jasmine on the lattice wall at the end of the steppe. Her left hand rested on her knee, showing off the black diamond ring that he hadn't noticed until now. Her right hand was resting on the bench beside her.
Ephraim sat down next to her, placing his left hand on the bench next to hers but not so that they were touching. "Not particularly, if I must be honest. I prefer the bright, various colors, and my favorite is the water gardens. There's something about the visual aesthetic of the running water alongside the trees and flowers that I find soothing." He glanced back up at her and added, "It's my favorite place to be."
She looked at him, her green eyes locking with his. "Then, you will show me that garden last."
His heart raced as he stared into her eyes. "Yes," he breathed. He was stuck in her emerald eyes, and he felt hopelessly enthralled by her. His hand shifted closer to hers and the brush of her skin made his stomach flip. He couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous around, well, anyone.
"What other gardens does your manor keep?" She asked, her voice soft.
"There's a butterfly garden, a rose garden, a wildflower garden, and a vegetable garden by the greenhouse," he heard himself say. His brain was utterly mush and all he could focus on was the warmth of her hand and how beautiful her eyes were.
But then, she turned away from him, looking at the jasmine. It took him a moment to recover from the spell between them breaking. "Did the seeds I sent you work out for your garden?" He had to pull it together. He hardly knew her; there was no reason she should be affecting him like this.
She looked back at him blankly, and he wondered if she heard his question. Then, she rose from the bench, withdrawing her hand. Ephraim missed her touch already, but he also stood. He anticipated following behind her like before, but she changed her pace to stand closely by his side. As they made their way down to the second steppe, she surprised him when she said,
"It's mixed. I'm not sure what's wrong. The peppers are fine, but the tomatoes aren't growing at all. I tried planting the melons too, but they aren't taking either."
Excited, Ephraim began thinking through the issues. "Well, it could be several things. Perhaps it was the wrong kind of tomatoes—some of the variants can't grow as well from the ground as opposed to a pot or trellis. The melons might be a soil issue. What kind of soil does your garden have?"
Atrea considered his question, and they went back and forth for a while discussing her garden and what she had done so far. Before Ephraim realized it, they were through the second steppe and down at ground level on the first step. Ephraim started to walk her towards the bench overlooking the garden, but then paused. He scanned the white roses, light-blue Jacob's ladder, wild swan, and, finally, gardenia. He went over to the gardenia bush and finding one fully bloomed, plucked the flower gently from the stem.
Ephraim walked back over to Atrea and he held up the gardenia up to her. "May I?"
She stared at him with her porcelain visage, but she nodded her consent. He moved closer to her and tucked the gardenia behind her ear. As he lowered his hand, he brushed her cheek with his fingers and his touch lingered on her jawline. He moved his gaze to her green eyes to see her staring at him with an expression he could not place, her cheeks flushed. The air shifted between them and he was suddenly acutely aware that her face was mere inches from his. His heart sped as he started to lean in and close the gap between them, but, suddenly, she stepped back. She looked away from him and at the ground, touching the flower behind her ear gingerly.
Ephraim's body seemed to freeze, unsure of what to do or say next. Fortunately, Atrea looked up at him, composed. "I will uphold my part of our bargain now."
Trying to act as though nothing had happened, he led her over to the bench and they both sat down. She was about to tell him important information, but he could hardly get over how he nearly kissed her. He flattened his palms on his lap, as if it would release the lingering sensation of her warm, soft skin from his memory. It didn't. Unable to resist himself, he glanced at her. Atrea was gazing up at the flowered steppes, and he noticed she was sitting towards the edge of the bench, as though she could leap to her feet in an instant. He was a bit put off in knowing she wasn't fully relaxed. That was probably his fault.
"Duke Ehmun Hokal of the Silver Order, Secondary of the Branch Echtarch, Sheath of Falling Leaves," she left his name hanging in the air and turned to look at Ephraim. His stomach clenched, the longing in him instantly disappearing. The Duke was one of his father's major supporters and contributed quite a bit financially to the overall running of the branch.
"Is cooking the books. And by cooking, I mean reporting less than what he makes so he can skim some off the top for himself and his buddies, while underpaying the miners. Which also means, he's been pretending to be really useful by managing most of the funds so no one else finds out what he's been up to."
Ephraim stared at her, shocked. "What do you mean? I've seen those books personally! I-" He looked away from her. He couldn't bear to see her response to him feeling like he'd been eviscerated. The Duke gave him advice for years growing up. He looked to him like an uncle, even though he was technically Ephraim's second cousin.
In a low voice, she said. "He has two sets of books. I've seen the real ones personally. I have a few copies of some of the pages from about a year ago, but you'll have to pay for those."
"What?" his voice was barely a whisper. "Why?"
She shrugged, "I was on a job and it was convenient to take them; I thought they might be useful later. Oh, you mean the Duke. Because he, like everyone else in your family, is corrupt."
He swallowed hard. "I didn't need the reminder."
"Except for your cousin Kassandra, who knows exactly what her father is doing. I would talk to her, if I were you."
"This will… I- thank you." Ephraim didn't know what to say. He sighed heavily. "We should definitely leave your end to the bargain for last."
"So, you'll take me up on our deal again?" He glanced over to her to see her predatory grin.
This was probably a bad idea. "Yes."
"Excellent." She rose from the bench. "Next time, will you show me your vegetable garden? I'll bring a sample of my soil."
Ephraim blinked at her, processing her words. Then he shot up from the bench. "Yes! Definitely, yes!"
And thus, the deal was struck.
~*0*~
On Atrea's second visit, it took Ephraim a full ten minutes to become aware of her presence, despite Tommy's coaching and Ephraim's practicing. Atrea did bring a soil sample, like she promised, and he found the soil acidity wasn't quite right for growing melons. After some suggestions, he walked her through the vegetable gardens near the greenhouse. He showed her planting techniques, different ways to grow different vegetables, and she talked through the size of her garden and how much sunlight it received. Tommy tagged along, often interjecting with jokes and remarks that made Atrea glare at him and Ephraim laugh.
Towards the end of their visit, Ephraim offered to lend her some gardening books, which became a conversation about books generally. He made an offhanded remark about a serialized detective series he was following about the tales of dwarf detective Varric Verinitras and his capable sidekick Anders of Anderfall, when Atrea blurted:
"Love and mystery is abound! To us, a case to solve!"
Ephraim's jaw dropped and Tommy stared at her dumbfounded. A blush rose in her cheeks, but she stared back at them obstinately. Then, Ephraim grinned and began gushing about the series with her, the characters, the clues, the latest murder! Ephraim could hardly believe that she too loved the serialization, and they began talking about mysteries and thrillers. As Tommy put it, with a grin and a wink, her current life of leisure left only room for gardening and reading, with some fun in between.
That revelation was far more enjoyable than learning Baroness Faustina Mennan, who owned key farming land and was another of his core advisers, was running her estate into the ground with her iron fist and poor decision making. She also took bribes from Denalia's people.
~*0*~
On Atrea's third visit, she brought him her most recent favorite thriller, and he exchanged it for a new mystery-romance novel he recently finished. Atrea gave him the update on her vegetable garden—too many peppers and too few sprouts of melon. Next season, Ephraim told her to consider flowers instead. Since Atrea arrived while Ephraim was at the greenhouse, he didn't get to practice he awareness on her. He mentioned he was practicing with Tommy because he eventually wanted to go visit the Undercity for himself. To this, Atrea snorted:
"Tomlyn will never take you to the Undercity when you can't handle a knife, and when you don't know how to catch pickpockets."
So, instead of visiting the rose garden like he planned, Atrea spent the entire time bumping into him and stealing the same coin purse over and over and over while Tommy heckled them. Admittedly, he didn't mind her bumping into him, but he did mind failing. By the end, he managed to at least notice that she was snatching the purse, even if he couldn't prevent it.
In the remainder of their time, they drank tea, ate cake, and played Gavant. Well, Atrea cheated at Gavant and won almost all the time, but it was fun regardless. She instructed Tommy to teach him how to use a knife and promised when he was ready to visit the Undercity, she would see him in and out. For a price, of course.
~*0*~
On Atrea's fourth visit, it took Ephraim five minutes to become aware of her presence and he apparently had "good form" with the knife but still handled it clumsily. Ephraim protested, stating his bare hands were fine, and he was almost able to land an open-palmed hit on Atrea. Almost.
Ephraim took her to the butterfly garden and explained how the particular flowers provided nourishment and rest for the various butterfly species. They discussed the latest Detective Varric serial and debated the clues as they walked closely side-by-side, her arm looped in his as he escorted her through the garden. They sat close together in an area that had a large number of butterflies and watched them in a comfortable silence.
Ephraim wasn't usually one for silences, much like Tommy. Tommy was always telling a story, whistling a tune, or chatting up a storm. Even with the nobles around his age, they were all boisterous and outgoing. He always thought he'd prefer a partner who was similarly outgoing and sociable, and yet, here he was enjoying the quiet and peace of his gardens with someone he never expected. Atrea was the opposite of Tommy—reserved, pensive, cautious, and considering.
Atrea slowly reached out and was able to get a butterfly to land on her finger. Carefully, she brought it close to them and as she inspected it, and her face softened into a gentle smile.
Atrea was also heart-wrenchingly beautiful.
The Baron was popular in high society and could mingle across multiple circles, and despite being a doting grandfather, he was still knowing for being a whoremonger. He also sleeping with a prominent Duchess and apparently had a very loose tongue after sex. The Duchess, of course, was in service to Denalia.
~*0*~
Ephraim reclined back into the pillow, staring at the dull glow of the candle for the umpteenth time. It was a full half hour since his arranged meeting time with Atrea. He tried not to feel anxious, but it was difficult. This was the last time he would see her before she ended her respite from work. He was so eager to see her one more time, and, of all the gardens he'd shown her, he desperately wanted to show her this one.
He was lounging on the pavilion floor on a large, thick red blanket, while he reclined on sitting pillows of various sizes and colors. Candles were placed around the blanket to provide some light, and there was a tray of sweets and chocolate desserts along with two bottles of vintage red wine he handpicked from the cellar. The night air was cool, but not chilled, as summer began to transition into autumn, making his silk tunic feel nice and light for the weather. The pavilion provided a perfect view of the water gardens he promised to show Atrea: a long, vertical fountain that was artificially tiered to create several waterfalls, and the fountain pool was lined with various flowers. Alongside the flowers were walking paths and benches, backed by tall fir trees.
The garden was much better for walking and talking, but the sight-lines in the garden were very exposed. So, to see the garden in secret, Atrea had to come at night. Usually he only came out to the water garden at night if there was an event or party, and on those occasions the pathways were well lit. For tonight, Ephraim had to make an excuse for wanting to come out alone, with two bottles of very old, expensive wine, desserts, and a slew of pillows to lounge in. Even he knew that his actions were so unusual that the servants were confused, let alone the General, his uncle. He was sure there rumors were already swirling about him and a secret lover.
Sighing, Ephraim took another small chocolate from the tray. Bitter, dark, and luscious it melted in his mouth, and he wondered what Atrea tasted like. Sure, he kissed her as Lady Emeria, but it wasn't the same. He thought about kissing her after the butterfly gardens, but, as he started to lean in, the moment was ruined by Tommy cursing loudly at himself for having lost the game of cards he was playing. Atrea didn't seem to notice Ephraim's attempt, but he was sure she was just pretending. Still, she never left his mind and the two weeks since they had last met seemed to stretch on infinitely, and this day, this time, this moment, seemed like years in the making now.
Ephraim glanced at the candle. 45 minutes late now. He refused to think she was intentionally ditching him. But even so, the disappointment and hurt began to well up inside him. Atrea was a spy, the best spy in the city. She knew how to move between the nobility as a noblewoman, as a servant, or as a peasant. She wasn't a good of a liar as Tommy, she admitted as much, but she was good at playing her roles. Wasn't this just an act as well? Placating him and letting him flirt with her, so she could reap whatever it was she wanted from him?
This was foolish, he told himself.
She was a criminal, he told himself.
She lived in the Undercity, he told himself.
She displayed the bouquets he sent her in her home, he told himself.
She stole a lot of expensive jewelry, he told himself.
She looked lovely in her jewelry, he told himself.
She loved thriller novels, he told himself.
She liked the red and pink geraniums the butterflies were landing on, he told himself.
She liked him, he told himself.
It's her job to like him, he told himself.
Ephraim grabbed a smaller pillow, smashed it onto his face, and screamed into it. This was madness! Going back and forth and back and forth like this, watching the minutes drip by for a woman who was likely only humoring him for her own gain. He was being ridiculous and he needed to let go of his juvenile, superficial feelings or they would only lead him to ruin. Ruin!
Suddenly, Ephraim heard it: the shifting of fabric and the soft sound of a boot lightly touching the marble tiles. Oh no. Ephraim felt his face burn in embarrassment and wanted to curl up and die. It just, really, really would be his luck that Atrea happened to show up now of all times. Great. This was just, great.
Ephraim slowly move the pillow down to see Atrea standing over him, her arms crossed and looking positively sour. Her glare shot daggers out of her eyes that pierced right into him. He immediately scrambled up, quite ungracefully, and smoothed out his tunic. He gave her a small bow and said,
"Atrea! I was worried you wouldn't make it." He tried to feign enthusiasm but it was hard after the doubts that were running through his head. A silence ran between them, but Ephraim learned enough about Atrea to know that he needed to be patient and let her speak when she was ready. He only had to wait for a moment longer, and, as she spoke her voice had a hard edge that made all of Ephraim's doubts return.
"Well, because you decided to pick the most conspicuous spot on this whole path and because you decided to make an affair of this visit, I have been waiting for your servants to get out of my damn way," she growled. Ephraim swallowed hard at her words, and he felt himself shrinking inside with each emphasis of you. The warning voice in his mind taunted him, I told you so.
"And as a result, I've been here, watching you set up and mosey about for an hour and a half. So, instead of doing whatever you were doing with that pillow, you had better pour me a glass of that very nice looking wine now."
Ephraim stared at her, stunned and his mind going blank. "You were here for an hour and a half?"
"Wine, Ephraim, now," she snapped.
Ephraim turned and poured her a generous glass, his mind racing. An hour and a half? She definitely came early and then had to wait on his servants to stop spying on him. The realization should have cleared the doubts in his mind, but they lingered in the back of his mind.
"Oh. Well, thank you," he said, handing her the wine. "This is a hundred year old vintage malbec, straight from the finest vineyard in our kingdom." It didn't seem like she even heard him, or cared about his response, as she took the glass from him. She closed her eyes as she tilted the glass back delicately and took a long sip.
Ephraim exhaled the breath he didn't realize he was holding. This was why he made an "affair" of their meeting. This was why he was in such anguish. He couldn't help but find her to be anything short of breathtaking. For the first time since he met her, her dark hair was completely loose, and seemed to rest on her back lightly, exposing the angled profile of her face. Of course, he didn't miss the pearls in her ears—a simple, small stud above a larger, round, pearl stud that anchored a dangling tear shaped pearl. As she opened her green eyes and withdrew the glass, his gaze lingered on her red stained lips.
She let out a satisfied sigh. Before, her body seemed tense, but now, as she appraised the glass, she seemed more at ease. Ephraim poured himself a glass of wine, trying to mask his blatant ogling. "I almost left, you know," she said, "But, I simply had to try the wine. It was certainly worth the wait. This wine is simply exquisite."
At that, he couldn't help but grin at her. "I'm so glad the wine is your primary incentive for sitting with a handsome prince in this lovely garden."
She smiled at him mischievously and raised her glass, "Anything for a fine glass of wine." He raised his glass to hers and they toasted together.
"Well," Ephraim started, gesturing out towards the garden. "Welcome to my sanctuary. Unfortunately, we can't walk far along the path, but we can walk out a little, just to the first part of the waterfall." He pointed down the path and she nodded.
"Even then, I'm not so sure, but most of your servants are humans, so they won't be able to see well anyway. Best to keep our voices low," she assessed. Before he could offer her his arm, she stepped down the pavilion, the soft click of her heeled boots behind her.
Ephraim tried to shake off his disappointment, and it only fed his doubts. In a few strides, he was next to her, slowly walking up the length of the gardens. Her green eyes were staring intently at flowers lining the fountain: red and orange tulips, orange pomegranate flowers, and yellow Persian roses. She paused, kneeling down to smell one of the roses. He wanted to enjoy her relaxed expression as she inhaled the flower's sweet scent, but he could only think about what she really had to gain from humoring him. It had to be more than simply spending time with him, right?
When she rose, she was standing closer to him than before. Their hands brushed and her warmth sent a rush through him. His longing and ache for her returned, and his desires shoved his doubts out of his mind. As they continued their slow and silent walk, his fingers ran along hers hesitantly. He couldn't bear to look at her, and from how hot his face was burning, he knew he was blushing terribly. Her fingers responded back, toying with him, and it was wonderful and agonizing at the same time. His heart pounding, he shifted his hand and slipped his fingers between hers, gripping her hand lightly. To his immense relief, she gripped his hand back, and they walked the remainder of the distance, hand in hand.
When they reached the waterfall, he pointed out the various flowers to her and explained the garden's construction. While some water gardens were meant to irrigate surrounding fruit trees and plants, this one was simply for show. She finished her glass of wine and turned to him, adjusting her hand so her fingers were pressed against his palm, her thumb rubbing the top of his hand. Her green eyes stared into him, and he felt helpless in her gaze.
"They look lovely in the dark, but it's a shame I can't see them in the sun," she said in a hushed tone.
"Maybe you will, one day," he said softly.
Atrea stepped closer to him, her expression shifting into the look she had when he placed the gardenia behind her ear a month ago now. But this time, with her standing so close and her expression holding for longer than it had before, he saw that she was unsure and hesitant. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as his gaze focused on her lips.
"Perhaps," she murmured, "we should conclude our business so we may move onto…more pleasurable subjects."
Her eyes locked on his and he never imagined that she would want him, never thought it was possible.
Of course she wants you. She wants to take advantage of you.
The thought sent him reeling back to reality and he took a step back, his gut twisting. "Oh sure," he forced himself to say. He plastered a smile on his face. "It looks like you're out of wine. Shall we walk back?" She stared at him blankly, and then gestured for him to lead the way. His hand slipped out of hers, and the spell woven around him mere moments ago was shattered. They walked side by side, but with some distance between them, his hands clasped behind his back. Ephraim felt heavy, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the warning voice in the back of his mind, or if he just didn't want to hear bad news so soon.
Sighing, he said, "Atrea, I don't really want to hear-"
"It's not bad. Well, I could give you that news, but I don't think it's appropriate to conclude our deal on." She shrugged. "If you still want that information, I'll discount the gold cost for you as compensation."
Ephraim wasn't sure how to respond. "I suppose that's fine, then."
"Good. Your Uncle, and your prized General, is your most loyal and steadfast follower. He honed his skills and earned his reputation as a good strategist with your father but has since faded into the background after your father passed. He also despises the way Denalia has run the country and wishes for change." She paused. "He's highly perceptive and strategic, so I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't already making is own schemes similar to your own."
"That's… why would he do that without saying anything to me?" Ephraim frowned.
"I don't know. Anyway, that's what I have for you tonight." The continued the rest of the way to the pavilion in silence. When they arrived, she turned to him blankly.
"Should I leave?"
"Leave? Why?" Ephraim asked. He tried to feign surprise, but even he knew it sounded fake.
She stared at him with her blank porcelain gaze. "You seem… distracted. Perhaps we should conclude our evening, albeit earlier than I would like."
Ephraim stared at her, surprised. "I'm sorry. I had a lot to think about while waiting for you earlier. I would like you to stay, please." He gave her a small smile and gestured towards the pillows. She nodded, handed him her empty glass, and settled into the pillows so she was laying on her side. He refilled both of their glasses and turned to hand her the glass. He swallowed as he gazed down at her, drinking in her appearance.
Atrea was wearing black from head to toe—from the heeled boots to the tight pants, the corset-like tube-top, and the mesh long-sleeved short jacket. Her dark hair was completely loose, and some strands spilled over her shoulder and rested at her well-defined bosom. She looked up at him with a knowing and playful smile, and Ephraim felt his cheeks flush again as he handed her the glass and laid down next to her. She didn't object at his proximity, which was too close to be anything other than intimate.
She asked him if he had read the latest serial, and their conversation shifted to detective Varric Verinitras and Anders of Anderfall. Ephriam found it easy to converse with her and their back and forth felt natural as they attempted to piece the murder together with the clues they had and theorized who could be the culprit. Soon, Ephraim was opening the second bottle of wine, and they were effortlessly talking about a range of subjects, from Atrea's favorite tea flavor to the lord who was recently overthrown in a riot. He also learned that in addition to Gavant and dice, she enjoyed chess—apparently it was an important game to know when circulating with nobles. He revealed that he loathed chess but loved to mediate and practice using his ki.
Regardless of the topic, Ephraim found it easy and natural to converse with her. In their last visit, they didn't really talk much, but Ephraim thoroughly enjoyed her presence. Now that she was talking with him, he found that he liked this part of her too. She was direct in her thoughts, and it was nice to be around someone so frank. Everyone always tiptoed around him, and, of course, as a prince he was expected to conform to proper etiquette that trained him to avoid speaking directly. But Atrea wasn't bound to social customs. She was alluring, mysterious, and dangerous, and he desperately wanted to know more about her.
By the time Ephraim finished pouring the last of the wine, he was feeling the pleasant hum of intoxication and numbness. His doubts and the warning voice in his mind were firmly trampled by the wine, and Ephraim preferred it that way. Instead, he focused on the way her hair framed her beautiful visage and how he loved staring into her green eyes.
Her wine finished, she set the glass aside. "By the way, I've already agreed to a new job. I'll be out of touch after next week."
He frowned at her, disappointed. "Why didn't you tell me earlier you were looking for work?"
Her lips curved upward into a smirk. "I have other clients, you know."
"Or," he ventured, "You could just come onto my payroll. I pay very handsomely, you know?"
"Handsome pay, from a handsome man?" Her smirk shifted into a mischievous smile. "Tempting, but I like being a free agent."
Ephraim felt a rush of exhilaration as she called him handsome. "Well, then, I'll just have to keep tempting you." His voice sounded lower and huskier than he intended, and Atrea stared at him with the predatory gaze. He felt a longing desire rise in him and he yearned for her touch.
But then, to his great disappointment, she rose from the pillows and sat up. "It's time I take my leave, Your Highness." She stared down at him knowingly, her visage amused but warm.
"Oh, of course. It's quite late." He stood as well, trying not to let his disappointment show.
Then, she frowned and looked around. Like a cat, she was suddenly on her feet and blowing out all the candles. A finger raised to her lips she approached him and leaned towards him to whisper in his ear.
"Someone is watching. I have to go." Her body was so close to his and he could feel the warmth oozing from her body, but he forced himself to lock his arms at his sides. He could not, should not, wrap his arms around her. Not when someone was spying on them.
He didn't know if it was intentional or not, but her lips grazed his ear, and he couldn't help but shudder. She chuckled, low and breathy. "Thanks for the wine. I'll see you later, Ephraim."
"It won't be soon enough, Atrea," he murmured. Then, he felt her warmth leave him and she disappeared as silently as she had arrived.
Ephraim lowered himself back into the pillows, dazed. Then, as his senses returned to him, Ephraim grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. All of this was completely absurd! He shouldn't want her as much as he did, but he couldn't help himself. Sighing, he set the pillow aside and stood. In the long walk back to his room, Atrea was entrenched in his thoughts. She had to be manipulating him, he was sure of it. The warning voice agreed. But then he thought back to her visage in the garden, unsure and hesitant. Was that fake too? He didn't know.
He entered his room and quickly dressed and climbed into bed. Staring at the ceiling, his thoughts swirled until he remembered something. He promised to tempt her with his service, didn't he? Which meant it was worth keeping in contact with her. If he wanted to know how much of their interactions were genuine, then there was only one way to find out. Plus, a gentleman always keeps his promises.