The two of us spent the rest of the assigned time choosing through different materials, picking patterns and colors –it was mostly Gabriella picking with me agreeing, and her asking me more than thrice about if I truly liked anything. And I did, I just enjoyed seeing her eyes sparkle with starlight as I watched her mind rally to make a dress for me.

I left that room with a few papers containing some rough sketches she'd made of some dresses, ordering me to pick by tomorrow morning. With a hug and a peck on the cheek, I'd been sent on my way.

Five hours later, after being showered and lathered with soap and lotion, as well as a faile attempt at sleep, I lay sprawled along my bed, my bare legs tucked beneath the comforter as I turn the page of my latest read. Trying so hard to not look over at my nightstand, where the folded, written response from Lady Dimitrescu sits.

While Gabriella was putting together a lovely combination of peach and cobalt, I'd summoned another servant to the dressing room to deliver my note to Lady Dimitrescu. With the tailor's threat, better to try and get word to the Mistress before she hunts Gabriella down.

Of course, I hadn't forgotten the title she'd spewed at me, either.

Dimitrescu's Whore.

When did Nadine say anything to anyone? Do they believe what she really said? Will it turn them against me?

These questions distracted me for a majority of the time I had left with Gabriella before I'd been summoned to Lady Dimitrescu's side. I'd left her with a few color ideas, some style designs, and a slim hope that Nadine's gossip had started after I'd spread the word around about her. From the way Gabriella had acted, how she stood up for me, things seem stable.

At least among what I consider my circle of friends.

Friends. The thought – the fact – still baffles me.

I actually have friends. People who have faith in me as a person, who believe in me and trust my word. Who enjoy spending time with me, and who want to see me be happy, to succeed.

Elena had been there during dark times, yes, but even still it felt so lonely since she was occupied with her own chores and others whom she was closer with.

I don't blame her, after all, she was there for me when no else was.

But with Bianca, with Gretta, and now Gabriella, it's just . . . different.

The thought makes me smile as I turn another page of the romance novel, hoping – praying – that the protagonist realizes her lover is a spirit. Otherwise, this is going to have a terrible end.

I'm halfway through the second page when there's a knock at my door.

Since I'm not expecting Bianca or Gretta, and since Gabriella is going to have her hands full, I carefully slide out of bed and grab the dagger from the drawer.

With practiced, quiet steps, I approach the door, waiting for another knock.

When there isn't one, I carefully hide my arm behind my back, angling myself so it won't be seen as I grab the knob.

I open the door a crack, attempting to peer into the hall as my blood begins to pump faster. But there is no one there.

I pull the door open wider, making to take a single step into the hall to look up and down its length.

My blood stops at the person standing before me.

At the scent that hits me. Awakens me.

Bela Dimitrescu stands in the doorway, hands folded in front of her, seemingly fidgeting with them, dressed in her usual immaculate black dress. The hood attached at the collar is pulled over her head, her mass of golden waves spilling forward like a waterfall.

When her golden eyes meet mine, her throat bobs, her lashes fluttering. As if she didn't expect me to answer. Or maybe was hoping I wouldn't.

"Hi." The word is a chocked sound.

"Hey," My own voice is breathless with surprise.

I didn't expect her to come here. I didn't expect her for another day or so, what with the undoubtable trouble that is to come if people come looking for the nobleman and his son.

"You could've just flown in." I say, wanting to break the silence despite being a bit of a loss. As if all social skills have vanished at the mere presence of the eldest daughter.

She gives an awkward shrug. "I didn't want to scare you."

Fair enough. And I acknowledge as much with a nod.

Bela doesn't move, doesn't say anything.

As if she were . . . waiting. For me. For my decision on whether or not I wanted her to enter my room, despite living in her castle.

And I knew that one word from me, and she'd go flying off into the darkness of the castle. That if I shut the door, she'd go and not push it.

I step aside, holding the door open for her.

I could have sworn I saw a pulse of knee-wobbling relief ripple through her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" I ask, closing the door behind her.

I don't know what else to ask. In truth, it's all I really care about anyway.

Every time I picture her arm in arm with that piece of filth, of picturing her lying next to him, sharing a bed –

A shudder goes through Bela as she dips her head dips slightly. "I'm fine."

Because she's done it before, no doubt. All three of them probably have. Their body means nothing to them like it does to me. I'd be indifferent, had the thought of her missing me not lingered.

"Are you . . ." She seems to grapple with the right word. "Can I hold you?"

The stark need in her voice rips at me.

My eyes fill, my face crumples. A small, broken noise cracks from me.

Bela is instantly moving, but my legs have already given out. The bear skin rug cushioning the impact as I sink to my knees.

I cover my face with my hands while the past month crashes into me.

Bela kneels before me, knee to knee.

Her arms wrap around me, enveloping me as much as she possibly can, and pulls me close. I nestle into the crook of her neck. Her skin is cold, her heart off beat, but I've never felt warmer in my life.

Gently, she pulls my hands away from my face. Gently, she takes my cheeks in her hands and brushes away my tears.

I lift my head and behold the joy and concern and, passion, shining in those remarkable eyes.

Bela murmurs, her golden lined with silver, "I missed you," and kisses me.

I no sooner slide my hands into her hair than she scoop me into her arms and stands in one smooth movement. I pull my mouth from hers, the tips of my toes grazing along the fur of the bear rug. Bela sets me down on my feet once more, her face still buried in my neck.

She lets me have a few more hitches of breath before she asks, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"I am."

When she pulls away, I look into her golden eyes, having forgotten she's a few inches taller than me.

Despite my congested nose, despite knowing my eyes are probably red-rimmed, Bela giggles as she leans in and kisses my forehead. "I missed you, a lot." She repeats, biting her bottom lip.

"I'm glad you're okay." I say as I step out of her arms.

There's an initial resistance, her hands gripping my hips a tighter, but something in my face has her releasing me.

The long cotton nightgown I wear is one thing – the colder seasons opting for more appropriate sleepwear – but it's another thing when I remember the blood oath I'd struck with Lady Dimitrescu, her mother.

The thought alone douses any want or urge. And I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear as I walk over towards the coffee table, aiming for the pitcher of water and two glasses I'd been left. "You must be thirsty."

"Not for that." Bela nearly purrs.

My core pulses at her want, at the promise in her tone, but I force myself to continue pouring the glass. For me. I chug it down with three gulps.

Bela takes three steps towards me. "This certainly isn't the kind of reunion I was expecting."

I close my eyes and sigh, wiping my nose. "So, he's dead then?"

I turn to Bela, and she straightens. "Bled like a pig and died like a coward."

"And there won't be any repercussions?"

"Mother assured me she would take care of it." Another step closer, almost like a lynx ready to pounce.

I take another gulp of cold water, trying to drown the growing heat between my thighs. "Did she say anything else?"

"No. What's the matter with you?"

I add a bit of sharpness to my tone, "I just hope it was painless for the both of you."

Bela pokes her hip out, resting her hand on its edge. "It wasn't as easy as it looked."

"You cuddled with him like it wasn't."

Bela stiffens, her golden eyes churning. Good. I need her angry. Need her upset, anything to distract her, to distract me, from touch the other.

Not with my soul so soiled from that damned blood oath.

"Well, you certainly didn't seem to mind my absence much, either. Not with you and Cassandra spending our lost time together."

"I needed something to distract me."

Bela's eyes dip low at my front, and a feline smile crawls across her crimson lips. "Amongst other things?"

I clamp my thighs together. "Maybe."

But then Bela's head tilts, observant, and she steps over to me until she's a breath away. "Are you alright?"

I blink, confused. "I feel fine. Why?"

"Why do you still look, exhausted?"

"I don't know." I shrug. "I, uh, I did just have a nightmare, but I can't even remember what it was about by now."

Not a total lie. It was the reason why I'd started reading. My attempt to sleep foiled by another nightmare no doubt brought on by Donna's pollen. Or at least it's remnants. She'd said that it was purely my imagination, but why would I still be having them if not influenced by the pollen? I'll have to ask her when I see her. I believe she's supposed to be at the party; if not, I do have my upcoming week with her.

My heart skips a beat.

I might not have long with Bela before I'm shipped off again. Perhaps I should enjoy the time I have with her.

"I thought those were supposed to go away." Bela growls, promising trouble for the dollmaker should she see her.

I click my tongue. "Oh, don't throw a tantrum now. It doesn't matter."

"It does, because you should be getting some sleep."

"Since when do you care? Worried I can't sing you to my pretty songs?"

"I'm worried because it makes me think my sister was sharing your bed while I was busy."

"Busy? Is that what we're calling it these days?"

"You didn't deny it." Bela grits.

I sigh, "Cassandra and I haven't don't anything."

Bela seems to relax at this, but something like pain flickers in her golden stare. "This wasn't what I expected. I thought you'd at least be happy to see me."

A bit of ice melts in my heart, despite the tar that wallows at the bottom of it. "I am happy to see you. I guess it still just hurts with how well you, acted."

"Well, I promise it was all an act." She lowers her gaze, fiddling with the ends of her hair. "But, if you want to wait, then I suppose I can understand. I don't think I've really gotten over the feeling myself."

The feeling of him over her, the feeling of him inside her. In truth, some part of me really doesn't want to touch that, to be near that. But seeing the shadow of it still haunting Bela's stare, to see that it truly had affected her in some way . . .

Does her mother even know? It makes me want to disembowel the fucking countess, exploiting her daughter like a prized mare –

"Was it worth it?" I ask.

A shrug of her shoulders. "It was worth getting rid of him."

Not a true answer, but I don't want to push. Perhaps it is something more for her to discuss with her mother. She'll come to me if she needs it.

And the fact that she was willing to let me wait . . . Was willing to let me choose . . .

I walk over to her, and I wrap my arms around her middle. I swear she feels colder than normal. Her arms are around me in an instant, and I nestle into her as I feel her cheek press into the side of my head.

I might not know what we were before, I might not know what we are now, but the least I can offer her is some kind of reprieve, even if my heart weighs as heavy as a stone. Even if it might feel wrong, to know that my blood flows at Lady Dimitrescu's command, I want to banish such shadows and disgust from those stunning eyes.

So I angle my head into the crook of her neck, placing a delicate kiss upon her nape. I feel her skin ripple with gooseflesh, and I can't help but smile.

Am I really the only one who can make her unravel like this? Am I really the only one that can see her like this?

I can feel her body melt in my hands, her own drifting towards the curve of my ass. Her mouth is soft, and cold, and open for me. I giggle as my mind compares it to ice cream. My arms twine around her neck, tugging her close, and Bela's slides her arms around my slim, curving body.

Her tongue brushes over min, and she shudders in my arms. But meets me stroke for stroke, as if she can't hold back, as if she wants to know every inch of my, my every taste and nuance.

Her hand slides along my jaw, fingers exploring the shape of my face. Her fingers trace the bridge of my nose. The bow of my lips. As if she too had forgotten details of who I was. Then she kisses me again, with sheer abandon, and I give myself over to her entirely.

I hands rove along her middle, smiling fiendishly as my thumb traces along the side of her breast, feeling her hardened nipples at the front, even through the dress.

Bela peels her mouth away from mine, licking the inner corner as she pushes me towards the bed. But at the last second, I grip her arms and spin, Bela yelping with surprise as the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. A giggle erupts from both of us as she topples onto the surface, the hood of her dress falling back.

I climb atop her, pressing a kiss to her forehead – right atop that inked mark – and slide my hand between her legs. I breath a moan as my fingers slick through her soaked sex. She didn't even bother to put on underwear coming here, and she is utterly ready for me.

Her lips graze along my neck, and I spread her knees and kneel before her.

"Erika!" Bela gasps my name as I drag my tongue up her center –

She bucks, like her hips have a mind of their own, like a charge of electricity at my touch. My own inner muscles clench, as if feeling the phantom memory of her fingers inside me.

I slide my other fingers inside my soiled sex as I lick her again.

Bela moans, her chest heaving, and I am rewarded with the sight of her breasts. The front buttons of her dress undone, revealing the swelled mounds with pebbled peaks. Her long, golden hair cascades down her torso.

"I don't remember you being so submissive." I say, tracing a dry finger along the underside of her foot.

"I don't remember you being so aggressive." She breathes.

"Call it an experiment."

"Sure," she says, and I punish her for the sass in her voice by licking her again, drawing another gasp. "Erika."

Gods, my name on her lips –

I slide another finger into her, and Bela clenches, becoming deliciously tight before releasing. Then gently, so gently, I take her right ankle and kiss its inside. Lick at the bone. Then at her calf. The inside of her knee.

My tongue traces circles along the inside of Bela's right thigh. Higher and higher, until she is shaking. Bela goes liquid, unable to stop her writhe of demand, and I hug a warm laugh against her most sensitive place, kissing her again with a light tracing of my lips.

Then I kiss her left thigh, beginning a downward trajectory. Bela's breathing turns jagged as I reach her left ankle, kissing again, and then I slide back up. I halt with my head between her thighs, though. Take her feet and prop them onto the edge of the bed.

Spreading her legs wide.

Bela moans softly as I survey her, truly processing that I am the only one for whom she unravels with. Who has seen her this vulnerable.

Softly, reverently, I lay a hand on Bela, opening her for my own personal tasting. My tongue sweeps along her in an introductory flit. Bela bites her lip, panting through her nose.

I press a kiss to the top of her sex. And another, unable to help myself. Again, I part her, and press my tongue flat against her as I drag it up. Bela arcs into the air, as if seeking invisible hands to caress her breasts. I flick my tongue over her clit with lethal precision.

Then my tongue pushes into her, curling deep, and Bela bucks.

I revel in the wetness that coats my mouth, at the feeling of those delicate inner muscles fluttering.

Bela claps a hand over her mouth to keep from shouting as I drive my tongue back into her, then dragging it all the way up to her clit. My teeth clamp down gently, and Bela's legs stretch long, her eyes likely rolling back into her head.

"Erika," she manages to say, voice strangled.

I replicate what she'd done for me that night I'd nearly broken, moving my fingers harder and faster as I loosen my own leash and feast upon her. Reveling in the control and power I have over a daughter of House Dimitrescu.

My other fingers flick and rub over my clit in tantalizing circles. Both my hands matching pace as my tongue laps and flicks over the bud of her clit. Blowing on it to give it a little shock of cold that has gooseflesh rippling across her thighs.

I can feel my release building, focusing more on that as I ready for Bela to come, as I begin to feel her thighs quivering. Her hand grabs my head and presses me harder against her, her hips grinding and lips moaning. Her legs lock around my head, trapping me, and furthering her need for me to push deeper.

The sound of her soaked sex nearly undoes me, my eyes looking up at her as she bows off the bed over me, her moans becoming more frequent, leaking from her lips as I watch her eyes roll back. My own seem to relax, reveling in the taste and feel of her grinding into my mouth.

The pace of her hips increases, and I move my fingers to match it for both of us. Bela cries out, her legs releasing me and stretching long; quivering as I continue to lap at her clit and drive my fingers deeper, feeling her inner walls clench around them.

Her hands grip my head, but don't fist my hair, just trapping me to keep me there as she releases into my mouth, my fingers coaxing every last quivering moan from her. I can feel my own sex pulsing from climax, clenching and fluttering as I drive my tongue into Bela one final time.

One last drive of her hips, and Bela collapses onto my bed, her breathing ragged. Her legs dangle over to edge like a doll, and with my own climax, I can only brace myself on my knees, my cheek resting against the intersection of her thighs as I catch my own breath.

I drunkenly giggle as my mind slowly pieces back together. I lift my head and look to Bela, still boneless and breathing, her breasts slowly relaxing, nipples softening.

I force myself to stand, a little wobbly with my weak knees, tense from either the orgasm, or from having put weight on them for too long. Regardless, I manage enough energy to walk over to the bathroom and grab a facecloth to wipe myself dry.

I stumble back over to Bela, wiping her clean with the other side of the rag. She twitches and whimpers at the harsh brush of the cloth, and I only laugh. I drunkenly stumble back to the fireplace to toss the rag into the still-roaring flames – not wanting to suscept any other servant to that.

Using the last bit of energy, I toss myself onto the bed next to Bela, scotting myself fully atop and nestling into the pillows, careful not to get my feet and hands tangled in Bela's hair, now spilling across the surface.

When Bela doesn't move for another minute, I giggle and nudge her with my toe. "Are you still with us?"

Bela's hand lifts, but the laze has little energy behind it. Her eyes are closed, but there's a smile on her lips.

My own eyelids are heavy, my energy having been drained from the sex. So I settle down under the covers, shamelessly pushing Bela out of the way. She humorously rolls off the bed, but the impact sounds like she'd caught herself.

"Rude," her voice grumbles.

I giggle as she hauls herself up onto the edge and proceeds to climb back into the bed as if it were a snowy mountain peak. She ends up rolling into me, a section of her hair near whipping me in the face. I counter by flicking her in the forehead.

Bela giggles, settling into the other pillow next to me. My own eyes can barely stay open, my heartbeat rippling throughout my face, setting it tingling.

I can hardly remember words. But I find them when I whisper into the burnt-orange light of the fire, "Stay with me."

As much question as it was a request.

A shudder rocks through Bela, but she only smiles as she lifts herself up and removes the sleeves of her dress.

I didn't realize I wanted her to stay until she agreed to it. I thought I would be content to whatever decision she made – if she left right then, or not. But her choosing to stay made my heart flutter like a butterfly.

Bela shimmies the dress down her hips, revealing the beautiful shape of her ass as she tosses the garment to the floor. When she turns around, I'm jealous and aroused at her perfectly shaped breasts, her gracious curves reminding me of an hourglass.

"Do you need to borrow some intimates?" I ask, my voice frayed.

Mischief twinkles in her golden eyes, near glowing like a cat's. But I wave her off, the thought of another round pressing my body further into the bed. I close my eyes, ready to let sleep pull me under.

Bela wanders over towards the oak dresser, pulling open a drawer. And there's a heartbeat of silence.

Instinct has me looking over to her, just in time to see her slowly smile.

As she struts towards the bathroom, I jolt upright as I bark, "What the hell is that?"

Bela keeps going, refusing to apologize of look down at the red, delicate, and very short lace nightgown. I'm only spared a wink before she slips inside, hips swishing.

When she emerges, she runs her fingers through her hair, fanning it wide as she approaches the bed. "You forgot the bottom part."

"There is no bottom part," she says, flinging back the covers of her side.

"It's starting to get so cold, you're going to be trembling, and keeping me up at night."

"Well, then it's a good thing one of us has proper flowing blood. You can keep me warm. Plus, we can just layer the blankets if we need to."

She slides into bed beside me, her cold toes touching mine. I reflexively retreat, but force myself to press against her feet, each fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces. For a few heartbeats, there is only the sound of rustling blankets as she nestles down.

"Those aren't mine. I've never seen those before. I didn't know those were even in the dresser." I say flatly.

She rolls over. "Well, you just didn't look hard enough."

"So, you just keep random sets of nightclothes scattered around the castle?"

Bela hums in confirmation. "Just like you leave random boxes of ammunition around the castle."

I roll my eyes, "Fine, fair point."

Bela licks her forefinger and traces an invisible tally mark in the air.

She's still smiling as I ask, "Are all of your nightclothes like that?"

Bela rolls back over, grinning as she nestles into her pillow. "Yes, there is more, don't worry."

A pause. A thought. "Do you want me to wear any of them?"

That makes her head snap towards me, brows high. "I didn't think you'd be interested in such things."

Her smile is turning vulpine.

"You're a menace" I push back against my embarrassment as I say, "Is there a specific color you want to see me in? If you insist I seduce you, I should do it in something you like."

Bela laughs again, seemingly lighter than she had in weeks. I'm fairly certain we're done talking for the night when her voice trickles across the bed. "Pink. Not that stupid bright, gaudy pink. But a nice, soft rose-colored pink."

"You're out of luck." I say into my pillow. "I would never own anything so ostentatious."

Her chuckle feels like a velvet touch along my skin as we settle down. Within a minute, I feel her inch closer to me. I gasp at the initial touch of her cold body to mine, something in my heart faltering as I warp my arm around her middle, nestling along the base of her stomach.

I can feel Bela smiling at me as we fall asleep.