PART TWO: DRAGON’S LOVING DESIRE
"If I have to attend one more simpering, shallow, saccharine display of fake mourning, I might have to throw myself off the balcony."
Aurora's hand grabbed at the jutting rock above her head and held tight as she adjusted her foot in the hold beneath her, gave a few small bounces to build up momentum, and launched herself up a few more feet.
"Yes, I could probably come up with several more 'S' words to describe them. How about 'sickening'? That's an 'S' word."
The voice streaming through her headset continued to ramble, but Aurora focused on her hand slipping across the grit on her handhold and tightened her abdominal muscles to keep herself steady. Beads of sweat rolled down her spine and she could feel the burning in her thighs from her exertion. She pushed forward, unwilling to surrender to the rocks.
"No, I do not think I'm being bitter. I'm the one whose father just died, but I seem to be the only one who has managed to keep myself together and not fling myself into despair bemoaning the continuation of life as we know it. I swear, from what everyone is saying, I should be wearing a black veil and wailing. I've already given up my future for my father. Is it too much to ask that I at least get to enjoy the last few days that I have left?"
A surge of energy pulsed through her and Aurora pushed herself up and over the edge of the cliff. She climbed to her feet and turned to look out over the view stretching in front of her. The sun was coming up in the distance, washing the sky in shades of pink and blue that should be giving her a fresh outlook and renewed hope for the day. Unfortunately, they only reminded her of the god-awful bridesmaids' monstrosities the wedding coordinator had brought over the night before and that now lay draped across every piece of furniture in Aurora's bedroom.
"Anson, go to bed. If you haven't noticed yet, the sun is coming up, which means you have, yet again, stayed up all night trying to save the world one political event at a time. Get some rest and I'll see you this afternoon."
Without waiting for her assistant to respond, Aurora tapped the button on her earpiece to end the call. She planted her hands on her hips and let out a long breath. These would be her only moments of peace in the day. Up here on the rocks where she could be alone was the only time when she felt free. Below her, the city looked peaceful and picturesque in the early morning light, but she knew that buried among those pristine houses and perfectly manicured landscapes waited for her an engagement ring she only wore when she had to, a man she didn't want to marry, and a promise to her father that she would soon have to keep.
Aurora waited until the last possible moment to slip her engagement ring onto her finger before stepping out of her bedroom. The gold band felt heavy against her skin, the cushion-cut diamond glinting up at her with such frustrating perfection it was as if it knew her secret. Smoothing a few wayward strands of coppery hair back into her severe bun she took a steeling breath and started downstairs.
Greyson stood at the bottom of the stairs, gazing up at her with a smile nearly as fake as his tan. Aurora suppressed a sigh and returned his smile with equal sincerity. If someone had taken a picture at that moment they would have looked the image of young prestige and budding political power. From her sleek black dress and the diamond drop at the base of throat to his sharply pointed pocket square and gleaming shoes, they said we've got our shit together.
Right past that thin, glossy surface, though, she felt more along the lines of how the hell did I get here?
Aurora descended the stairs slowly, resting her fingers across Greyson's outstretched palm so he could lead her down the last few. Once she stood beside him his smile became softer and more genuine. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and Aurora felt an involuntary shudder. It wasn't that she hated Greyson. In fact, they had been friends nearly their entire lives. When he touched her, though, and she saw that look in his eyes, it was like bits of her were disappearing beneath his fingers.
An hour later Aurora stood behind a podium with a stack of note cards in her hands. Her eyes swept across the faces staring up at her from the sea of cream linen and gold chintz in front of her, then back to her father's handwriting sweeping across the cards. The cursive letters seemed to unravel and slither across the thick white cards. She forced herself to focus on them and they slowly recoiled into their words. These were the last words her father ever wrote and it was her responsibility to put a voice to them now that he couldn't.
Aurora finally forced the words through her throat and kept pushing them out, letting them pour from her chest as she worked her way through the cards. Her voice remained steady and strong until she reached the last card. Her father hadn't intended on it being the last and the half-finished sentence looked lost against the pristine expanse of the mostly empty card. Touching her fingertips to the faint streak of blood along the bottom of the card, she completed Lee's final thought and brought the speech to a close.
Greyson met her again at the bottom of the stairs, but this time Aurora stepped closer to him. This is what Lee wanted and what she had promised him. She knew if her father could see her at that moment, walking through the glittering event on Greyson's arm, he would be proud.
They spent the rest of the evening moving through the crowd, greeting people until they all became a swirl of color. Their words were a strange juxtaposition of condolences and congratulations. Aurora thanked them for both, changing the inflection of her voice slightly to make the response appropriate. By the time Greyson led her out of the room and into the soothing cool air of the night, she felt like she might as well just roll her father's coffin right down the aisle with her on her wedding day.
"You handled that very well," Greyson said, placing his hand on her lower back.
"Handled what well, Greyson? Reading the speech my father was writing when he was murdered, or plastering on my best bridal smile to accept congratulations?"
Greyson stroked the segment of bare skin revealed by the cutout in her dress and Aurora subtly pulled away from his touch.
"Why don't you come home with me tonight?" he said softly.
She stepped away and turned to look at him.
"No, Greyson. Still no. Please just bring me home."
Greyson gave the same resigned, disappointed look that he gave every time she refused to go home with him and held out a hand so she would walk ahead of him. They waited silently under the portico until the valet brought Greyson's car around.
Once home, Aurora removed her engagement ring and nestled it in place in her jewelry box. She took a long shower to wash away the memories and slipped into bed, another day crossed off her countdown.