"The housekeeper will provide you with anything you want. Dante will stay, and I trust him implicitly. It is safe for you to roam the gardens and the beach. You can visit Hemera at the stables, but I ask you not to ride."
She tilted her head to the side. "What about you?"
"I'll be absent for a couple of days."
Her breath caught. "So soon? I hoped—"
He frowned. "I must go to Alcobaça to retrieve whatever Braganza wanted me to see. This is not a vacation, Anne."
Just like that, he flipped the magnets again, pushing her away. She covered her cheeks with her palms, wishing to hide her obvious reaction. "I know. Of course. Must you go alone?"
"I act better alone." He bowed stiffly, already turning to leave.
Anne's gaze shifted from him to his warhorse. A knot clogged her throat, and the air became scarce. "Wait."
He halted, his features set in granite. Why could he hide his feelings so masterfully? Anne was sure her face hid nothing of what she felt.
Uncaring, she went on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Godspeed."
His fingers covered the place where her lips had been, and he stared at her with an intensity that left her legs completely useless. She needed to be away from him. Friends said goodbyes with simple handshakes,adieus, ortchaus, not with a waterfall of tears.
Anne turned on her heels, intent on racing to the house.
A hand on her shoulder stopped her. When the familiar leather of his gloves encircled her wrist, she stifled a cry.
"You will be here when I return." He tugged, forcing her to face him, his voice hoarse. "No leaving the property. No impromptu travels to the city."
Anne tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. "Must you decide everything?"
With a heavy sigh, he pulled her to his chest, and his solidness and warmth seeped into her. She gazed into topaz-colored eyes, into the swirling brown lines. Why couldn't she see inside them? Just a glimpse? Her heart, so close to his, fluttered against her ribcage.
Thoughts babbled through her mind—friends didn't look at each other this way; how she missed being this tight to him; if only he would never let go—and then his lips touched hers, and her mind hushed. She closed her eyes, her insides melting, but not with tears.
Pedro deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, and his taste made her head spin. Circling her spine, his arms pressed her closer, intimately.
"Ana." He broke away, panting. "I haven't heard your promise."
"Friends don't kiss like that," she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes. Instead, she glided her hands around his neck, willing his lips back.
He touched his forehead to hers, breaths ruffling her hair. "This friendship arrangement was your choice."
"But it was you—"
"When I return, you will be here. And it will be my turn to choose." He rubbed her lips with his thumb, and the heat in his gaze made her weak.
Then he stepped away. Cold and thin air replaced his presence. The sun filtered through the palm leaves, pooling on the grass and glinting off his horse's ebony coat. Anne watched, still reeling, as he mounted Erebus. Dressed all in black, Pedro looked like the God of Shadows, and when he left, cantering through the iron gate, he stole all the courtyard's light.
Pedro's parting words followed Anne around the house. Unable to face Beatriz or the cheerful housekeeper, Anne found the bedroom with her suitcase and shut the door. Alone, she leaned her back on the wall and closed her eyes. At some point, she would have to stop reading meaning where there wasn't any. Parting words or not, Pedro had done it again. Left her behind.
What of her resolutions? What of her future?
Her hand came up to her locket of its own will. Would she sacrifice the promise of perfect love for a man so different from her ideal? With a cry, she released the necklace. She couldn't think about it.
The book was there, Inês’s story, atop the escritoire, along with her toiletries. The last time she had read it, Inês awaited Dom Pedro. Heir to the throne of Portugal, mortal enemy of her family, possessor of mercurial moods, a married man.
Anne settled on the bay window seat and opened the tome.
Coimbra, Quinta das Lágrimas—June 1336
