Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Jacqueline Caery's Kushiel Legacy series and in no way am profiting from it. I highly recommend the series, first book, Kushiel's Dart

Character List

Nathaniel de Wintre nó Mandrake - Courtesan of the Night Court of Blooming Flowers, raised in House Heliotrope (Thou, and no other), claimed by House Mandrake (Yield all), Dowayne of House Mandrake

Aurore de Morhban de Talmanes - Marchioness de Fries, Baroness de Brianne, second born child to the former Duc and Duchesse de Morhbane, Augustus and Océane de Morhban. Former Ambassador to Aragon and the only acknowledged lover of Nathaniel nó Morhban

Helena de Trevalion - Second born to houe Trevalion, former patron of Nathaniel nó Mandrake. Sworn rival of Aurore de Morhban.

It was fitting, her friends had said, that she was returning to court on the Longest Night, for that was what Aurore's absence had been. The years she'd been away from Terre d'Ange had been a period of unending darkness, they'd said rather dramatically, without knowing how much she was inclined to agree with the sentiment. Her time serving as a dignitary in Aragonia had been shrouded with deception, but that was what happened when one played the Game of court intrigue, painstakingly choosing each word spoken, calculating the weight of each glance, coordinating her presence in each affair so precisely... Her queen had given her a task, and Aurore had done it well while loathing every moment of it.

But just as they celebrated the turning of the seasons, ready to welcome back brighter days in their future, Aurore was more than ready to do the same, starting with tonight. Despite the identity-concealing masks, would be free of the deception and scheming. She would be free of her queen's desires, free of her husband's desires, the latter of which made evident in every article of her wardrobe. Tonight, Aurora had not donned a shred of the mourning black she'd been obligated to wear in the weeks following Antonio's death. The colour had looked drab on her, washing out the warm tones of skin, dulling her golden hair and flattening the glow of her blue gaze. What she wore now was a stark opposite, not a sky of the blackest night but a sea of the brightest stars. Pale blue silk artfully draped her body, silvery thread making her shimmer with every movement from the hem of her skirts to the silver and aquamarine necklace wreathing her slender neck, a matching mask causing her eyes to shine as she greedily took in the spectacular pageantry of the fete.

At her cousin's celebration, her ensemble had earned a wealth of compliments, though she knew as soon as she turned her back, there would be whispers abound, remarking on how it appeared her mourning period for her late husband had been cut rather short. Aurore had expected nothing less of the chattering courtiers. For her, it had been enough to meet the queen's eye and receive a nod of approval. At the Night Court, however, it was not her attire that warranted inspection but that of the parading houses. It was something her friend's had placed bets on in years past, trying to guess what the theme of the evening would be, flashes of silver and gold coins passing between palms as they watched the procession. Before she'd left for Aragonia, Aurore had participated in such games, but tonight, she merely watched. She'd not allowed herself any knowledge of the Night Court, of any of its houses in the time she'd been away, knowing a cold, clean break from it was the only way she would endure her new position so far away from it. Indeed, she there appeared to be some distance in her gaze even as she took in each house, the only flicker of reaction occurring as House Mandrake made it's presence known. Murmurs, both scandalized and delighted had simmered through the assembled crowd, and Aurore allowed herself a smile behind the glass of jolie she sipped from. Only Mandrake, with its wicked and clever courtesans, would dare to be so cutting, even towards its own patrons. Especially towards its own patrons.

Aurore had to admit, as controversial as their costumes were, they were rather dashing. She might have said as much would she not have been accused by her friends of being biased. The thought alone had her taking another rallying sip of her drink. For most of the night, that was all she had allowed herself, to sip at the mind-melting alcohol. In past years, she had indulged as freely as those around her, had given herself over wholeheartedly to the exhilarating rush of heat that would turn hours in the minutes and minutes into hours, heightening every sensation even as her thoughts quieted until she was living moment to moment, simply embracing the sheer thrill of being alive. It had been years since she'd been drunk on any form of alcohol, though, not daring to dull her mind amongst the sharks of Aragonia's court. In fact, the only instance she had allowed herself more than a buzz while abroad was for liquid courage on the night of her wedding.

Yet another thought that had her taking a sip of her jolie. And another. Aurore was leaving that period of her life behind, as thoroughly as she had once left behind the life she was now returning to. Though was she really returning to her life here, among the Night Court? The metal of the token she kept tucked within her bodice seemed to burn against her skin in reminder of what she had lost. No, not lost-- forfeited in service of her queen. In return, her sense of duty and oath of secrecy had earned her nothing more than the memory of blazing blue eyes turning unbearably cold, of a familiar touch withdrawing from her skin, never to return no matter how much she might yearn for it. Aurore had meant to return his token to him that day, but something in her couldn't stand that sense of finality, so she merely feigned that it had slipped her mind. She had no right to the Lover's Token she carried with her and had used to fool her way into the fete, anymore than she had a right to the courtesan who had given it to her.

It was that final thought that had her finally finishing her drink. Instead of reaching for another delicately-stemmed glass, Aurore reached for an outstretched hand. The procession of the houses had ceased and the music had shifted towards melodies that had patrons and courtesans alike seeking partners to dance. She decided she would lose herself in it, the dancing, the drinking, like she had done only years ago. She would not weigh down her thoughts with memories of dead husbands or lost lovers. For a handful of minutes, her world would be her dance partner and no one else.

That was the plan, at least, until she'd allowed herself a moment to breathe. Her back was pressed against a cool marble pillar when the breath she had been trying to catch was stolen from her by a searing gaze that pinned her like a physical touch. He was an island of stillness in the movement, and Aurore felt each beat of her heart echo through her bones as they watched each other. The roguish jacket, the eye patch further obscuring his identity, marked him as a courtesan of House Mandrake. Some sort of poetic justice seemed to demand it, of course, to be tempted by someone of the same House as the only man who had held heart. Mandrake was the last house she should likely associate with, much less patronize, but Aurore found her eyes casting over him, an assessing sweep of the powerful build, the swaths of decorated skin he had on display before returning to his face, his penetrating gaze. Her lips parted to at last draw breath, her eyelids lowering ever so slightly behind her mask, and she didn't miss the moment the courtesan's gaze ignited, just as she placed her hand in the grasp of her next dance partner.

The look had set her very blood aflame, and no amount of dancing or jolie could cool it again. In fact, the alcohol only stoked the fire heating her body, aided by the gaze that followed her as she spun from one partner to the next. The courtesan did not ask her to dance, not that she let him get close enough to extend a hand. No, she could hardly make it so easy, not when it became clear how much they both seemed to relish the thrill of the chase. Indeed, that's what it had become, with Aurore growing acutely aware of his presence, ensuring that she remained just out of reach, no matter how many challenging glances she threw him. It only made him more determined, that she knew by the way his body seemed to wind tighter and tighter, each frustrated breath causing his powerful chest to rise and fall heavily every time she swept away from him. Aurore, in contrast, felt lighter than air, like she danced on the very wind itself, her cheeks flushed under the edges of her mask, her body buzzing with energy, like it might burst apart at the first touch. As the celebration neared its climax, she knew the inevitable was growing ever closer as well. It was almost fitting that the flickering lights made her appear like sunlight hitting water, diamonds dancing on its surface, and he was dressed as a pirate, who would always be drawn to the sea. Her heart pounded as the song she was dancing to drew to a close, her partner bowing before taking his leave. This time, when she felt the intensity of his presence draw near, gaze fixed firmly on her back, she didn't dare move an inch as she at last let herself be caught.