Page 86 of Chasing Eternity
“Honestly,” I say, “I’m convinced you could thrive just about anywhere, especially here. I saw it with my own eyes, El; Nash is completely awed by you. Whoever this fiancée is, I’m sure she’s a concession to societal pressures. Marriages here are more about alliances than affection.”
“Do you really believe that?” Her eyes widen, making her look like a much younger version of herself in search of encouragement.
“I really, truly do,” I tell her.
Our moment of connection is abruptly shattered by Killian’s loud, obnoxious groan. “Bloody hell,” he says, his English accent roaring back. But it’s not like I can complain, seeing as how, for once, it’s actually the appropriate time and place. “Can we dispense with the dramatics and get on with it already?”
Elodie shoots Killian a withering look. “Shut it,” she snaps. “No one asked your opinion.”
“Oh, honey, you haven’t even begun to hear what I think about you,” Killian barks. “Is this how you—”
Leaving them locked in their mutual standoff, I dart across the gardens and step inside the grand ballroom, instantly captivated by its grandeur.
The room is vast, bathed in a soft, luminous glow, with crystal chandeliers suspended overhead, their flickering candles twinkling like distant stars. The gentle hum of an orchestra fills the air, promising a night filled with music and dance. But those pleasures are reserved for the guests; I have more pressing concerns to address.
I move through the room, immersed in the rich scent of roses and peonies, their delicate fragrances intermingling with the warm, honeyed aroma of beeswax candles in elegant silver candelabras. Though I keep to the perimeter, steering clear of the dance floor, it’s hard not to get caught up in the buzz of conversation, the sudden bursts of laughter.
The atmosphere is electric, brimming with the thrill of social maneuvering and the whispers of romantic intrigue. Everyone is dressed in their Regency finery—the men in sharp coats and neatly tied cravats, the women in flowing, empire-waist gowns that mirror my own. And as I thread my way through them, it’s like being immersed in a kaleidoscope—a vibrant swirl of color and movement that spins all around me.
When I sneak a glance at the dancing couples, it occurs to me that this lavish ballet of intricate social exchange is exactly the life Braxton was born into. If it weren’t for Arthur’s interference, he would’ve eventually found his way here, in search of a wife—some lucky girl from his own timeline.
It’s because of Arthur that two souls born centuries apart managed to find their way to each other. And now, the responsibility falls to Braxton and me to prevent Arthur from reuniting with his beloved. A cruel irony that could easily fill me with sorrow, were it not for the grave consequences if he succeeds.
But here, in this moment, transfixed by this extravagant tableau, I feel like I walked into the pages of my favorite Jane Austen novel. Though it’s not long before the brush of my gown against my skin, the heft of my hair pinned atop my head, and the subtle weight of Roxane’s envelope in my grasp, anchors me to the reality of the role I must play.
Just as I start to pick up the pace, Elodie comes up from behind me and seizes my arm. “Oh, great,” she mutters. “He’s here, right over there.”
I follow her gaze to see Nash. His dark curls, piercing green eyes, and distinctly rugged features all contribute to a charisma that’s impossible to miss. Unfortunately for Elodie, he’s dancing with a pretty brunette.
“I think I might throw up,” she says, her grip tightening to the point where I’m sure I’ll be left with bruises in the shape of her fingers.
“Listen.” I turn to face her. “You are Elodie Fucking Blue. You’re stunning, possibly the most beautiful girl in this room, and you’re damn smart, too. Also, you’ve never failed to capture the heart of anyone you’ve ever set your sights on.”
Elodie turns to me, her expression shifting, eyes clouding over. “Seems like that’s notalwaysthe case,” she says, clearly alluding to Braxton.
I study the dueling emotions playing across her face, the eternal conflict of hope and despair. This girl has played the roles of both ally and adversary in my life, but I’m done holding grudges. My only aim now is to help her get past this crisis of confidence so I can free myself to pursue my own task.
“Perhaps Braxton wasn’t the right one for you,” I gently suggest. “But this one, Nash, could be. So, El—I guess the only question left is: what’re you going to do about it?”
To my relief, she responds to the challenge, physically transforming before me. Her spine straightens, her shoulders square, and there’s a defiant tilt to her chin when she turns to Killian, who’s busy cursing under his breath and rolling his eyes. Grasping his arm, she says, “Dance with me, you fucking buffoon. And make it look like you can’t get enough.”
Killian turns to me, his face etched with irritation and disbelief.
“One step toward redemption,” I tell him, watching as he scowls but reluctantly escorts Elodie onto the dance floor.
Seizing the moment, I make my way to the study at the end of the hall, a location I’ve visited before. Slipping inside, I shut the door behind me and let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the moment of solitude.
The room is just as I remember it—spacious, crowned with high, vaulted ceilings, with walls bathed in a deep emerald hue. Portraits of finely dressed people are displayed all around, their gazes fixed from within elaborate gold frames.
Who might they be?The question echoes in my mind as I briefly take them in, searching for any familial resemblance to Braxton.
Is it possible the much younger version of him is here? Maybe tucked away somewhere with a governess?
Crossing the thick woven rug, I navigate past an inviting array of plush sofas and armchairs to stand before a window that offers a commanding view of the lush gardens below.
Shifting my attention to the envelope Roxane handed me, I lift the flap to find a single tarot card—the Star—waiting inside.
Only this isn’t the same tarot card from before. This one is from the ancient Visconti-Sforza Tarocchi deck that Arthur usually favors.