Page 193 of Ashen Torment
The door opens, and instead of Étienne, Marie appears.
“Marie... where is Étien—”
“The Viscount’s chambers?”
The young girl stares at him, surprised. Then she lowers her gaze, her face turns the same red as her hair.
I follow Marie’s gaze: turgid lips, disheveled hair, the fabric of the trousers pulled tight over Dorian’s hip...
It is only natural she blushed, putain.
26
Servant
Dorian
Ihave already hoisted him onto my shoulders. The corridor blurs beneath my strides as his weight tips me forward, warm, only half-yielding.
A thigh brushes my chest with every step, I tighten my forearm beneath his knees, adjusting my grip without slowing down. Behind us, I hear a hurried rustle.
“I beg of you, my lord...”
The voice is thin, it is the young girl with fox-red hair.
“You cannot.”
I keep moving.
He shifts atop me, his breath grazing my neck.
“Withdraw, Marie.”
My fingers squeeze tighter.
Why is this corridor so goddamn long?
“Call the other valet,” I say. “And have cold water brought.”
“Sir—”
She quickens her step, then halts. “You cannot transport the Viscount in such a manner.”
I tilt my head just enough for her to see my profile.
“Do you wish to do it yourself, perhaps?”
I hear her stop in her tracks.
“I didn’t think so,” I add. “You have not the strength for it.”
Above me, Evander sighs.
“Do as he told you.”
The silence that follows is brief. Then her footsteps retreat, rapid, obedient.
I am alone with him and the sound of my boots on the floor. The door to his room is already before us. I shove it with my shoulder, never breaking my pace.
