I roll my eyes, exasperation boiling over. Marion hit the jackass trifecta with Highgate. He’s the ultimate mansplainer, a bossy control freak, and a complete chauvinist. “And what three tasks is she allowed to do when not under your thumb?”
“Embroidery, aiding Her Majesty, and sitting among the various garden plants.”
You forgot screwing random guys so you can drool over it later.
But I don’t say that part out loud.
“You should really get a less fucked-up hobby than making your wife feel inferior just so you can be the big, strong boy.”
His pale face contorts, a strange mixture of surprise and anger flickering across his features. His hooded eyes narrow, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to retaliate, but instead, he laughs and drags his long fingers across his smooth chin. “You have quite the tongue, Lady Ashwood. I wonder how long it will be before it gets you into trouble.”
My brow puckers, and I inhale, ready to gather up the confusion and anger Kane left me with and hurl them at Highgate, when Marion approaches.
Her eyes flick between us. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine, now that you’re here.” I turn away from Highgate, dismissing him as I link my arm through Marion’s.
We glide into the queen’s grand sitting room, a serene smile on my face despite the tension still thrumming through my veins. Crimson drapes cascade from high windows that look out onto the palace’s front gates. Overhead, the crystal chandeliers catch rays of sunlight and cast dappled rainbow droplets over the assembled guests and the elegant high-backed throne inlaid with golden pentacles that waits in front of the window for the arrival of the queen.
Kane stands behind one of the many plush loveseats, his hand resting on the carved wood. As Marion and I enter, he looks up from his conversation with a manI know I’ve seen somewhere in my world but can’t place.
Kane’s gaze finds mine instantly. I didn’t realize how much I crave his eyes on me, warm and dark and endless. But now he looks different, harder, colder.
I suppress a chill as I smooth my skirts and settle into the seat in front of him.
The meeting Marion tried to make an intimate affair is anything but. The room is crowded with many of the same nobles present at the feast, their jewels and silks glinting in the soft afternoon light.
Nervous cold sweat rolls down my back as I sit, my spine straight, every inch rigid with forced poise. I’ve never met a queen, and from what Marion has told me about this one, seeing her at all is substantial.
Once again, I’m flanked by Marion on one side and Kane on the other, although being this close to Kane doesn’t give me the same warm fuzzies it has before.
I suppose mentioning that I might want to stay in Towerfall and saying that we need to talk is up there withit isn’t you, it’s me. But blurting outI think I’m falling in love with you, and I don’t know what that means for us or if you even want there to be an us, but I don’t want to leave youdidn’t feel like a better option.
I want to take it back, tell him we don’t need to talk, and force my body and mind to play it cool, but the last time I played it cool, I ended up half naked in the hall of a Chicago high-rise. I won’t fall victim to playing it cool, and my feelings can’t handle pretending sex is all I want.
There was probably a better way to approach the subject, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t screw it up somehow.
I’ve lost any chance of anything that maybe, possibly, could have been. It slipped through my fingers like every other good thing in my life.
I turn to him and open my mouth, but the words are stuck in my throat.
“Lord and Lady Ashwood, so nice to see you again.” A purple plume of fowl feathers quivers on top of Lady Whitmore’s head as she smiles down on me and Kane. “May I present Miss Ivy Church.”
Kane stands and bows as Lady Whitmore steps to the side. Ivy strides forward, graceful and confident and even more beautiful close up than she was from across the dining hall.
“Lord Ashwood.” Ivy extends her hand to Kane and slides into a slow curtsy as she bats her lashes, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips. “I wish we would have had the chance to be formally introduced at last night’s feast, but we all know too well how that ended. It’s a shame, though—I would have enjoyed getting to know you better.”
“Perhaps another time,” Kane says.
“Please, Lord Ashwood, don’t tempt me with promises you can’t keep.”
Kane lowers his lips to Ivy’s hand with a murmured reply, and my fingers dig into my legs, my nails biting into my dress as my stomach twists into knots. I don’t want to be, I shouldn’t be, but I’m back in the conference room at Posh Pulse, trying again to prove my worth and claim what could be mine.
“I’m Hannah,” I say, springing to my feet. “Lady Ashwood. His wife.” My smile is brittle and forced, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
“So you are.” Ivy frowns. “Well, we should get comfortable. I wouldn’t want to be on my feet in the middle of the room, waiting for the queen like a lapdog.” Her gaze flicks to Kane. “Lord Ashwood, I hopeyoudon’t keepmewaiting.”
Kane nods politely, but his hand tightens around the back of the loveseat, his knuckles white.
