ROME
Rome was slowly getting used to the effect he had on ladies, not only because of the god-like features his Lycan heritage gave him but also the authority he wielded apparently was a turn on to most women. When he stepped into a room, all eyes turned to him. It was his special gift.
“Your Majesty.” The ladies chorused, bowing.
They couldn’t look directly at him and he understood.
With long, calculated strides, he walked past the two shelves that separated them and stood directly before the squirming ladies. If one could tuck their head into the ground, they would have. He smiled enjoying their discomfort.
“Get up, both of you,” He said with mock seriousness wondering why he found it amusing to pull their legs, “What’re you doing in here?”
“Um–I,” Elora stuttered. “I…We…”
He cocked his head. “Look at me when you speak.”
She whipped her head up face was flushed with beads of sweat glistening on her forehead.
“You said I was–”
He took a step towards her, leaving just enough space for her to breathe properly sorely tempted to see just how much she flushed.
“I said what?” Rome made sure to stare directly into her amber eyes as he asked.
They seemed darker than he had noticed the previous night and seemed to turn darker the closer he got to her.
“I. You said I’d be working here,” She answered, avoiding his gaze. “Lord Teriel said… I’ll be working.”
“Ah! Yes. I did say that.” He smirked looking down at her, “You seem uncomfortable.”
He leaned closer enjoying how the blush spread over her cheeks and covered the soft-looking skin of her chest visible in the dress she was wearing.
It made him wonder just how far the blush would spread on this maiden.
Chiding himself for his carelessness, Rome decided to cut her some slack. She looked like she would faint at any second. He turned to the other lady instead. “You. What is your name? And your work?” She was dark-skinned but was visibly red in the nose. It was obvious that she was a kitchen maid. There was a blue ribbon attached to her apron.
“Lucy. I am.” She exhaled, trying to steady herself, “I’m Lucy, Your Majesty. I work in the kitchen. Denise asked me to bring Elora here.”
He gave her a curt nod, dismissing her.
“Thank you for helping out.”
“Okay, sir,” Lucy said and remained standing.
Rome raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile.
She raised her head and met his gaze, wincing before realizing what he meant. “Oh! Oh! Oh! You mean…I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” She dashed off without looking back.
Rome took another step closer to Elora and this time, his nose picked a whiff of lavender in her hair. He could hear her breath quicken and because he was taller than her, he could have a good look at her full hair. It was straight from the scalp and progressed into a wavy mess she had somehow managed to tame into a bun at the back of her head although some strands escaped.
His fingers itched to put them back into place but he wisely kept his hands folded behind him.
“Elora. That’s your name? Yes?” He asked even though her name had been branded in his memory from the first moment she had told him.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” She answered without looking up.
“I’m not down there, Elora,” He drawled, stooping so he was closer to her face.
Instantly, she lifted her head bringing her face directly in front of his, her now darker eyes widening as she took in their proximity.
Rome was struck, the more he studied her face, by a feeling he didn’t think he’d experience so soon after being betrayed by the last woman his blood had sung for.
He had a good look at her oval face noting the proud arch of her eyebrows, her long dark eyelashes that framed her almond-shaped eyes, the careful shape of her dainty nose, and her rose-colored lips.
Her skin looked satin-smooth, even with the scars. He lifted a finger letting it trail the collarbone peeking out of the exposed collar of her dress and confirmed the silkiness of her skin, like a petal of the moon rose his mother loved. The lavender essence on her skin seemed stronger with how close he was to her, their calming scent making him sniff even more as if he could absorb it into his blood. She must have used one of the royal soaps when she had bathed earlier.
Elora cleared her throat and carefully raised her head as if she finally regained her senses and he could hear her heart beating a frantic rhythm even though she looked calm and composed on the outside.
“And how are your wounds?” He cleared his throat as he stepped back, returning to his full height, eyes drawn to the fading scars on her face.