To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(47)
When her tub was filled and the servants gone, Graciella stripped down and sank into the steamy water with a blissful sigh. She leaned her head back against the side of the tub and closed her eyes, remembering the feel of Yavi’s strong arms around her during the sword lesson. She could picture him coming up behind her while she was cooking and holding her like that, kissing her neck, caressing her waist…
A window beside her bed creaked, and when Graciella looked up at it, the curved latch seemed to move. Thinking she was imagining it, she watched as the latch slowly unhooked itself, and the glass pane flew open. A cold blast of wind blew in.
Father!
Graciella sat bolt upright, grabbing her washcloth and pressing it to her chest over her breasts. It was the same ghostly voice she’d heard before. “Who’s there?”
Wind whistled in from the open window, but there was no other sound. She rose from the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and went to close the window. She pushed down on the latch as hard as she could to make sure it was secure, then glanced around the room. No one was there, so she decided it must have been her mind playing tricks on her again. She didn’t want to waste her hot bathwater, so she got back in the tub to quickly finish washing up, keeping a wary eye on the windows.
§
Yavi dressed for dinner in black leather trousers and a white lawn shirt, then pulled on his boots. He washed his hands at his washstand, then patted his face with the cool water and ran his fingers through his short, spiky hair. He dried his hands on a towel, then stared at his face in the mirror a moment.
“You keep your hands to yourself tonight,” he ordered his reflection, giving himself a stern look.
When he descended the staircase into the dining hall, Graciella was already there, dressed again in her pink gown, the one that accented the shape of her breasts so excruciatingly well. By Tejeshwar—didn’t she own any other gowns? He pressed his lips in a firm line, then offered her a taut smile as he took her hand to press a kiss to it.
“Good evening, Miss Stovy.”
She curtsied prettily. “Good evening, Emperor.”
He turned his attention to the bottle of wine he’d ordered for dinner, studying the label. He’d told Liel to just choose something at random. “It looks like we’re having a blended white wine tonight.”
“Good, because I found some dried salmon in the larder and made salmon cakes for dinner.”
“Oh?” He loved salmon. “I didn’t know we had dried salmon.”
“I didn’t either. It was hanging inside a barrel in the very back.”
“Well, then. Would you like a goblet of wine?”
“Yes, please.” Her smile warmed his soul.
He poured them each a goblet, then raised his to her. “Here’s to a very apt pupil at swordplay.”
She chuckled and raised her glass. “Here’s to the best sword teacher in the land. Probably in several lands. I’d pit you against Villeleia’s or Xilaterra’s best any time.”
He touched his goblet to hers, and sipped his wine. “Well, shall we have our dinner now?”
“Yes.”
He pulled her chair out to seat her, glancing down the front of her neckline as she sat down, as was his custom—or compulsion, rather—and then ordered Tinni to tell Kitran to serve the meal. Out came a platter of crispy salmon cakes laced with green herbs, a large bowl of mashed potatoes with melted butter drizzled over the top, and roasted cabbage. As usual, Graciella’s food was exquisite, as were her bewitching hazel eyes, her arching dark brows, and her shiny hair. It was braided and pinned on top of her head, with a few escaped strands falling beautifully over her cheeks and neck.
“Yavi,” she asked, setting down her goblet, “do you know if this palace is haunted?”
He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her question. “Not to my knowledge. I have never seen anything out of the ordinary. Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s probably just my foolish imagination, but twice now I have thought I heard a voice in my room.” Her expression told him she wasn’t joking.
“What kind of voice?”
“It sounds like a child, a boy, saying ‘Father.’ I’ve heard it two times when the window blew open. It happened the other day, when the window blew open the first time, and again this afternoon while I was taking a bath.”
He frowned. “You didn’t tell me about the voice when you mentioned the window blowing open the other night.”
“I thought I was imagining it. I still think I might be imagining it.”
A disturbing thought occurred to Yavi. Thakur had a perverted taste for adolescents, particularly boys. If any young boy’s spirit had cause to haunt Thakur’s wing of the castle, it was probably one of the young male concubines Thakur kept there.
She was studying his face with those enchanting eyes of hers. “Do you believe in ghosts?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever seen or heard one?”
“Yes, once, when I was ten. Yajna and I were playing in the forest near our house late one afternoon and wandered away from our farm a little farther than usual. As it grew dark, we saw a woman walking in the woods. She was glowing white, floating along the ground. We followed her to an abandoned cabin in the woods, where she disappeared right before our eyes.”