Burning Glass (Burning Glass, #1)(85)
“I can’t go dressed like a maid,” I said.
“Dressing like a maid will get you to the kitchens unnoticed. I have something else for you there.”
She helped clothe me and we walked together, our chins tucked low as we made our way down the servants’ stairs. Once we reached the kitchens, Pia glanced around to make sure we were alone and ushered me inside a pantry so large it made the convent’s ample food stores seem pitiful. Behind a barrel of pickled cabbage, she pulled out a dark-blue sarafan. The bell-shaped peasant dress would be perfect. “This is also mine, but I think it will do.” She grinned. “I chose the color to help you blend in with the night.”
“You’re having far too much fun with this.”
That drew a laugh from her, not the hardest thing to do. “True.” She helped me change again and wrapped a bright, floral scarf over my head.
“And what does this blend with?” I smirked.
“Nothing.” The apples of her cheeks lifted. “But it will hide your hair and bring out the hazel of your eyes. A good trade, in my opinion.”
I relented to wearing the scarf. I couldn’t deny the part of me that wanted to look pretty for Anton. And since I couldn’t fill out Pia’s dress at the chest and hips, I needed all the help I could get. Her shoes didn’t fit, so I settled on wearing my night slippers and hoped they’d go unnoticed under the long hem of my skirt.
We left Pia’s maid uniform in the pantry so I could change back into it later, assuming Anton would return me before Cook and her staff began their early hours of preparations. Then Pia guided me to the specific kitchen door the prince had indicated. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she whispered.
“That leaves nothing.”
She giggled and gave me one last hug. “Have fun. I want to hear all about it tomorrow!”
“Of course.”
Oh, the lies I’d have to spin!
Pia dashed off on tiptoes, and I was left leaning against the door and wringing my hands in the dark. The air was spiced with soap and blood from the butcher’s tables. The auras of dead beasts drifted around my nostrils. I resolved to touch nothing.
Having arrived early, I waited a quarter hour standing with jittery and restless legs. Finally Anton came. I pressed back into the shadows until I was sure his silhouette belonged to him. The span and angle of his shoulders were a good clue, but it was the profile of his handsome, aristocratic nose that gave him away. A part of me wanted to remain hidden and admire him from afar for several more minutes. Recognizing how deeply I cared for him was a gift. Even if he didn’t trust my feelings, I did. That surety had taken me long enough to discover over the past few months, and now I wouldn’t deny it.
I stepped into a shaft of moonlight from a nearby window. “I’m here.”
The prince moved close to me. I caught his scent of musk and pine as his eyes traveled over what I was wearing. In his arms, he held a bundle of clothing. “You came,” he said, a thread of amazement in his voice.
“Did you doubt I would?”
“I only dared to hope. I know how dangerous this is for you.”
“What exactly are we doing?”
Something creaked. Anton dropped the bundle. It landed on the floor with a quiet thud. At the same time, he grabbed me and thrust us both into the shadows by the door.
Another creak sounded, this time from a farther distance. The padding of footsteps emerged then grew softer like someone was walking away. When the sound completely faded, I became aware of Anton’s arms wrapped protectively around me. My fingers clutched his shirt at the chest.
As one, we slowly looked at each other. My vision had done enough adjusting to the dark to make out the heavy-lidded set to his eyes. His heart thumped against my hand, and his aura bathed me with heat.
“Did anyone follow you here?” he asked, his deep voice making a true whisper impossible.
“No.” Pia didn’t count. She had come with me, not after. But perhaps she’d stayed waiting and watching, hoping she’d see something scandalous. I wouldn’t put it past her.
He nodded. “Good.” But he didn’t release me.
My fingers curled against him. His gaze fell to my mouth. I had the overpowering urge to kiss him, but I pulled back before I ever leaned in. At my first twinge of resistance, Anton let me go.
We moved a foot apart, a healthier space that granted me my breath. He rubbed the back of his neck and bent to retrieve what he’d dropped.
We kept stealing awkward glances at each other. My lips tingled with the absence of our almost kiss. But if I had kissed Anton, he would have only accused me of mirroring his desire. “Shall we go now?” I asked, turning slightly away.
“What gave you the idea we are leaving?”
My head snapped to him. I blinked twice. “Well, the dress you made sure I wear.” I shifted on my feet. “The door by the stables . . .” A sinking feeling of disappointment made my shoulders droop. “We are leaving, aren’t we?”
He chuckled. By the gods, was he actually teasing me? “Yes, we’re leaving.” He cocked his head. “You’re an anxious one for a bit of freedom, aren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I think you know that much about me.” Was I actually bantering with the stoic prince? “And since you’re a revolutionary,” I added with a grin, “you really can’t talk.”