Walking back to his room, Dorian opened his closet and fetched a black shirt. "I asked Wilson to retire for the night. Let me get him."
Before he could ring for Mr. Wilson, Grace stopped him. "No need to disturb him. I will serve you."
He shrugged his hand in the shirt. "Do you know where the desserts are kept?"
"Yes," Grace replied. "I have seen the kitchen on my first day."
"Alright," he spread his one hand to his door. "After you."
He followed Grace while buttoning his shirt. Most of the lamps in the corridor had been extinguished but it was visible enough to climb down the stairs. The dining room was however in complete darkness.
Dorian picked up a lit candlestand from a table. "Come," he held her hand and guided her to the kitchen. The simple touch, for some reason, felt nice. The silver ring on his finger that Grace had slid in his finger felt cool against her hand.
A small lamp was lit near the pantry. Grace unwind her hand from Dorian's and went to the pantry compartment. One door had raw material stored. She opened the other door and smiled seeing the contents. Breads, meat roasts, other leftovers and their desserts.
"Would you like pear tart or pineapple cake?" She asked seeing the delicious plates. God knew she wouldn't be able to choose one.
"Bring both," Dorian said and Grace grinned happily. Holding both plates on each hand, she emerged from the door.
"Tada!" With a wiggle, she walked to Dorian who was sitting at a long table with a candle placed on it and grinned seeing her. Grace walked to the opposite seat and placed the plates on the table. "Get the spoons form behind," she ordered.
There were three slices of tart and four slices of cake. Dorian passed her the spoon. Without bothering on serving, they both dug their spoons in a slice of cake.
"Mmm," Grace moaned tasting the sweet pineapple cream. "It's so good," she praised with a mouthful.
With an agreeable nod, Dorian stuffed another bite in his mouth. They both devoured the entire plate of cake within seconds and slid the tart in front of them.
Dorian took the first bite and twisted his brow. "I think the cake was better."
"Oh?" Grace tasted. "You are right. But we'll still eat this."
He grinned. "Of course."
Grace saw him happily eating the tart. He looked even more charming like this, relaxed, enjoying the small pleasure in dark black shirt. The colour did wonders against his dark hair and golden eyes. She wanted to tell him to wear that coloured shirt often but kept quiet, taking the spoonful of tart. She had always imagined her marriage life would be lonely, since Oliver was supposed to be her husband. The idea that she would be alone with her husband in the kitchen at night, devouring the desserts never occured to her. These parts of married life were becoming so precious to her. She would never want to leave them.
She would never want to leave him.
"Dorian?"
"Hmm."
"Did you know that your people hate me so much?"
His hand haulted and a moment later, he met her eyes. "It doesn't matter if they hate you," he said strictly. "You are their queen and they will bow down to you."
"But they don't respect me," she said softly.
Keeping his spoon aside, he leaned back on the chair. "Anyone who wouldn't respect you will answer to me."
His protectiveness for her warmed her heart. "Do you believe that Runecliff and it's people are unlucky for Nectaris?" She asked, eagerly anticipating his answer.
"I do not believe in luck," he replied dryly.
Taking a deep breath, Grace took another bite of the sweet tart. "Why, do you think, the two lands are forbidden? People in Runecliff belive it is an evil spirit on the bridge."
He let out a snort. "I don't believe in either evil or goddess. The reason is entirely different."
His sentence seemed like he knew the reason was different. "How could you be so sure?"
He flexed his hands and a clutting noise came from his bones. "Evils or goddesses, if at all there are any, doesn't remain in one place, Grace. It doesn't make sense that they have just a bridge under their power."
"What do you think it is then?" She asked before licking the spoon clean.
Dorian looked at her tongue with fascination. "At first, I used to believe that people would be doing this."
She frowned. "People?"
He gave a nod. "You know, like burning someones face, blinding them. Some kind of serial killers. It was the reason I was roaming there around when we first met."
Her eyes widened at that. "You were trying to find out the cause?"
"Yes." He slid the last slice of tart to her and said, "I am done, you can have it."
Grace scooped up a bite. "What did you find then?" She asked curiously.
"Nothing much," he shrugged. "Atleast that there wasn't any man around the bridge. And still some people lost their precious features or qualities whenever they tried to cross the bridge. Beauty, hair, money. But it was yours that stunned me."
She gave him a questioning glance.
He answered. "Voice cannot be taken away just like that. So now, I believe someone in the past had done something. Perhaps cursed or wrapped something around bridge that made it uncrossable."
A shiver coursed through her body. Tales of ghosts or evil were whispered many times in Runecliff. But the possiblity that the bridge might be cursed and that she had crossed it twice scared her.
"I am just guessing," Dorian chuckled seeing her expresaion. "It could be anything."
A sigh left her lips. "It always scares me thinking about the bridge."
Dorian stood up and walked to her side, as though showing a silent protectiveness for her. "No need to get scared. You will not have to pass through it again."
Looking at him, Grace gave a nod.
"Are you full now?" He asked looking at the empty plates.
"You emptied half of them," she said pointing a finger at him.
With a chuckle, Dorian held her hand. "You are such a messy eater, Grace." He wiped the cream that had stuck on her wrist with his finger and then licked it. It was the second time he had done something like this and Grace felt a hot blush over her face. His mouth sucked in every bite and suddenly Grace felt her heart racing the race of her life.
A thought occured in her mind, how would it feel if he had licked the cream directly from her skin?
Instantly, she dragged her eyes away.