Dressed immaculately in a dark suit embroidered in threads of gold and with his silver hair tied back artfully from his sharp face, Amon vel Feyras should have been a vision of elegance. But his towering height and the intimidating breadth of his shoulders screamed power and intensity. It was clear he was a wealthy noble in high standing, but there was a rugged, wild nature in those jarring gold eyes of his and the firm set of his jaw that made him feel dangerous and untamed.
Jovine recalled seeing him a few times after the coronation, but those encounters were blurred. Back then, all she could remember was watching for Richard’s attention.
Pathetic, she thought in self-loathing.
“Something troubles you,” Amon murmured with a frown, stepping closer until they were mere inches apart. “What is it, Your Majesty?”
Her eyes shuttered, attempting to suppress the surge of anger that had overcome her. When she looked at him again, her expression smoothed into one of polite stoicism. “Nothing I won’t survive,” she replied with a forced smile.
The Grand Duke’s frown deepened. “You prefer to bear your burdens alone, yet the weight of it seems to be suffocating you.”
Jovine’s face fell at his bold, daring words. It was almost as if he was challenging her to explode. “What brings you here, Grand Duke?” she evaded.
Looking down with a resigned smirk, he stepped back. “I was offered quarters last night after His Majesty’s Banquet. I’m set to leave soon, but I’m glad to have crossed paths with you. I admit I was quite worried with the way you left so abruptly last night.”
She internally winced, now remembering how completely hysterical she must have looked. If only they knew the truth of it. She sighed. “Yes, well, I wish you safe travels, Grand Duke.”
Amon remained silent for a while, simply staring at her with an unreadable expression. A humorless laugh broke the tension. “As straightforward as always.” He tipped his head up towards the sun, letting the light cast down on his ethereal face. “One day, I hope you’ll take what you’re owed and break free from whatever — or whoever — it is that put such a pained look in your eyes, Your Majesty.” He met her gaze with a fierce look as the wind picked up in a savage whirl. “I hope you’ll be selfish and rain fire on them.”
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Jovine’s hands trembled as his words sunk in, burrowing deep into her soul until she felt a raging pull to do exactly as he said. Oh, how she wanted to take, break free, rain fire. All of it. Clenching her fists to quell the desperation clawing at her to escape, Jovine dug her nails into her palm until the agonizing pain of her broken skin screamed in fury. Gasping, she looked down and saw her bandaged hand dressing the cut from the night before bleeding through the fabric. She internally cursed as her palm throbbed.
Amon’s hand shot out and grabbed onto her wrist as he crowded into her body.
“What happened to you?” he roughly cried, his eyes blazing and his face warped in terrible concern.
“It’s a mere cut…Nothing to —”
Mumbling an incoherent string of frustrated words, Amon whipped out a gold handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit. In a flash, he unwrapped the red-soaked cloth — looking down at the jagged cut as if it pained him — and gently wound her hand in the fresh fabric. When he finished tying a skilled knot atop her palm, he simply held on, his sizable, warm hand engulfing her dainty, pale fingers. With his thumb caressing her skin, it felt as if he wanted to soothe the pain away with his touch.
Jovine watched his face morph in a look of…ache. Speechless, she stared at him in bewilderment. The way he touched her. The look in his eyes. It felt too intimate.
Amon looked up, his frown deep-set and the grimacing lines around his mouth carved into his skin, but as he looked into her eyes and saw the question there, he froze. A flare of astonishment sparked in the gold depths of his piercing gaze. His grip tightened slightly, and he stepped closer.
“Your Majesty,” he whispered, a look of awe tilting the corners of his mouth. “You —”
“How terribly insolent of you, Amon.” The Emperor’s booming voice broke through the haze.
Jovine bit her inner cheek, startled and enraged at the sound of his voice. Amon’s face darkened, but he held onto her hand, his eyes never leaving her. She refused to break her gaze as well, even as she felt her husband step close beside her. It wasn’t until Richard yanked her body into his side with a hard hand on her waist that she tasted blood in her mouth.
“I could have your head for touching the Empress when she doesn’t want you to,” Richard seethed with an arrogant smile in his voice.
Jovine watched as Amon clenched his jaw, but she felt her own face relax, her rage settling into one of calm fury. She flicked a glance at her husband who stood at her side with a look of haughty authority and claim.
“Who said I didn’t want him to touch me?”