“Nearly?” I blink, the lava flowing through my veins starting to cool. “I haven’t said anything close to ridiculous.”
He reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Fawn—”
“Don’t ‘Fawn’ me,” I snap, swatting his hand away before his touch can reel me back in. “What ridiculous things have I said since we got here? If it’s about magick, you didn’t tell me it was forbidden. And why are you even using magick that’s been outlawed?”
He tilts his head back and forth as if weighing what I’ve said. “Perhaps ‘ridiculous’ was too strong a word. ‘Unnecessary’ is more fitting.”
“Unnecessary?” I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s fucking harsh. I was nervous. Excuse me for having feelings and for talking instead of brooding and marching around stoically.”
“You are but a woman.”
“And you are but a douche.”
The smirk dies on his lips as I glower up at him. “While acting as Lady Ashwood, you must keep quiet. Within this kingdom, women do not speak for their husbands.”
“I wasn’t speaking for you. I was just talking,” I fire back without an inkling of apology. “I’m not going to be agood girland walk around silently, letting you be in control of everything. If I have something to say, I’m going to say it.”
“If you have something to say, you’ll get us killed.”
I snap my mouth shut, my scalding comeback dissolving into silence as the weight of his words settle over me.
“What do you think will happen if Alderic, or someone far worse—someone like Four—learns the truth? Fawn, we are committing treason. The momentthey find out, our death warrants will be signed, and that will be the end.”
Fear flutters in my chest, reminding me that this is a different world and I do not belong.
“You want to be burned at the stake or beheaded? Then continue as you are. Within the Palace of Pentacles, we are Lord and Lady Ashwood. You are not Hannah, and I am not Kane. Here, I am skilled at swordsmanship, but not in battle. And you”—his voice softens as he caresses my cheek—“are quiet and meek as a mouse. To be seen and not heard. You are my jewel, my—”
“Trophy,” I whisper, my resistance thawing beneath his fingers.
He leans in closer, dipping down and drawing my chin up to meet him. His eye is a dark promise, an invitation to succumb to the heat licking through me. “And what a beautiful trophy you are.”
The moment stretches, taut and trembling, as if the world has narrowed down to the space between our lips.
The spell is shattered by a knock on the door so abrupt and jarring, I take a step back. Kane curses and strides to the door, his fists clenched so tightly, I hope the person on the other side knows how to fight. It’s only a matter of time before I won’t be able to anymore.
Thirteen
Kane throws open the door and fills the threshold with a force that sends a current of air rushing over me. “Go away,” he growls out into the hall, his voice the deep, resonant snarl of a hunter distracted from his kill.
Trailing my fingers along the solid barrier of his bicep, I duck beneath his arm. “Don’t be rude.” I tsk, brushing my hair back to greet our visitor. “How can we—”
The greeting dies on my lips as I take in our guest’s rounded nose, full lips, high cheekbones, and large almond-shaped eyes that sparkle like—
“Jade?” I whisper without thinking, my mind tumbling, struck by the fact that this woman looks so similar. No, not similar—the same. This woman looks exactly like the SVP of Posh Pulse. The woman who said I should make the pitch. The woman who gave me an incredible opportunity. The woman I completely and utterly embarrassed myself in front of. A lot like I’m doing right now.
Mirror versions…
Like Kane’s lookalike in the elevator. Like this woman now.
She’s Jade’s mirror version.
I close my mouth. “I’m sorry. You just look so familiar.”
“Lady Marion Highgate. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Her curtsy is slight, the skirts of her silk dress blooming around her feet. “I wish I could say we might have met before, but I have not yet had the good fortune to go outside of this kingdom and make the long journey to Cups.” A rose-tinted blush deepens her russet-brown cheeks.
“What do you want?” Kane’s impatience cuts through the questions swelling within me.
She tilts her chin, and the deep-brown curls framing her face slide back as she looks up at him. She’s elegant and poised and not at all bothered by his swell of anger as she says, “The steward informed me that Lady Ashwood would enjoy a tour of the palace. Is that correct?”
