“How unfortunate. It’s clearly quite delicious.”
Rue groaned and pried the mangled hat from Othello.
From the corner of her eye, Celeste noticed movement outside the window—Graves, crossing the courtyard below, utterly oblivious.
Before she could react, Rue bellowed, “Ambrose! I found your busby!”
Celeste’s stomach dropped. “Oh, no.”
Rue hurled the misshapen fur hat like a cannonball.
Thud.
A very distinct grunt of pain echoed from below.
Celeste winced. “That sounded—head-like.”
Rue calmly shut the window. “Well, that’ll be a fun uniform report.”
Celeste stared at her, aghast. “Rue!”
“Forget about that tall, utterly delicious captain—I’ll handle his bruised pride later.” She squinted at Celeste. “Now, you look like a wilted daisy. What’s got your petticoats in a twist?”
Celeste closed her eyes. “Nothing works with Hawk. He is more distant than ever.”
Rue sat by her side. “Men are like cavalry horses—you have to feed them, ride them hard, and let them think they’re in charge.”
Celeste could not find the will to laugh. “I’ve tried everything. Even theMerchant of Venus.”
Rue’s eyes widened. “How was it?”
Celeste pressed a palm against her fluttering stomach, heat creeping up her throat. The memory of Hawk’s hands, his mouth, his touch, sent a delicious shiver down her spine. Those moments were precious to her. When he snapped from his stone battlements and… and consumed her. As if she were the only air he could breathe. But how fast he rebuilt his walls.
Celeste shook her head. “It does not matter. He is as distant as ever. This morning, I woke at dawn to breakfast with him, but he ate in the mess with the officers. He is avoiding me….”
Rue clicked her tongue. “The Fabian Strategy. I see.”
Celeste blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Evading battle. Refusing direct engagement. Wearing you down with prolonged withdrawal. Old Roman tactic.”
Celeste groaned, rubbing her temples. “I don’t want a war. I want—”
“You want him. And he’s being a stubborn ass about it.”
Celeste hesitated, then forced herself to ask the question circling her mind for weeks. “How was Hawk’s first wife?”
Rue’s smile faded, and for a moment, she looked almost… cautious. “She was the perfect officer’s wife.”
Celeste swallowed hard.
“Before she had Nicki, she traveled with Hawk to the campaigns. Helped with everything—galleys, supply routes, even nursing the wounded when the need arose. That woman was tireless. And you never heard her complain. Sturdy.”
Sturdy. The word landed like a rock in Celeste’s chest.
She felt tears prick at her nose, but she willed them away, lifting her chin instead. “I can be sturdy. I can be all that.”
Rue studied her for a long moment, then her gaze flickered to Celeste’s lap.
