I squinted at the faint figure, trying to make out the supposed limp. “How can you see that far?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he tried again. “Last night–”
“Do you think it’ll snow this winter?”
He straightened, the tension in his frame palpable. “Nienna.”
My chest tightened, pulse pounding in my ears as I met his gaze. His lips pressed into a hard line, and a deep crease carved itself between his brows. Dread flooded me with his pained expression, drowning the fragile hope I’d clung to.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, desperate to stop whatever words hovered on his tongue. “I shouldn’t have…” The sentence withered before it formed, shame choking me into silence.
His attention roved over my face, lingering for a moment, as though searching for something unspoken. His hand rose, hesitated, then fell back to his side. “You are not responsible for what happened last night.”
I gripped the mug, its warmth the only anchor against the tremor threatening to give me away. “If I remember correctly… I asked for it.”
A flicker of pain flashed in his expression, smothered as quickly as it appeared. A small flinch, as if my words struck harder than any blade.
“And the responsibility falls on me.” His hand found the hilt of his sword, fingers tightening, but he held my gaze. “I shouldn’t have let it happen. I should have had more restraint. You deserve an apology—”
My heart stumbled over itself. “There’s no reason to–”
“—and a promise.” His brows furrowed into a grim line. “It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”
The words shattered something inside me. My breath caught, the ache twisting deeper with every beat of silence.
A mistake. That’s what I was.
“Greaves remains loyal to me,” he continued, his voice colder now, each word another stone on the wall between us. “Word will not come from me or him concerning the matter.” His mask slipped into place, locking me out.
I wanted to believe it shielded me from his true feelings, but the sting of accusation couldn’t be ignored.
He wouldn’t tell. Would I?
“I haven’t told anyone,” I murmured, though my stomach churned with his unspoken distrust. He thought I might. He believed I’d betray this secret—that I might trade it like coin, gossip for sport—whenmyreputation was at stake.
The cider soured in my mouth, its sweetness turned sharp and acidic.
He exhaled, his shoulders easing, and the sight sent heat rushing to my cheeks. Relief—his relief—only enraged me. How dare he only care for his crown’s untarnished shine?
The insult burned hotter than my shame.
I placed the mug on the wall with deliberate calm. His gaze flicked to it, then back to me, wariness shadowing his features.
“I wouldn’t whisper secrets that could send me to Draconia with my purity in question,” I said, my voice as cold as the night air biting at my cheeks. The venom spilled freely now, my treacherous tears brimming but unshed. “I am not yours, Kallias. And you are not mine. Perhaps we should keep our distance to remember that.”
Each word lanced through the fragile thread between us, severing it with precision. I refused to waver, even as my vision blurred, even as my heart fractured beneath the weight of unspoken truths.
A muscle jumped in his jaw as his teeth ground together. “I agree. You’re bound to my son, and he deserves an unsullied wife.”
My lip curled in a snarl, and my fingers twitched with the urge to strike him. How dare he say Tallon deservedanything!That snake deserved to rot in the bog.
Pain knifed through my stomach as I turned and stormed toward the door. I refused to be treated like a mistake—a stain. His apology and acceptance of blame meant nothing when the kiss still burned in my mind, scalding away every trace of composure. It unraveled me, made me long for something I could never have.
I yanked the door open, the hinges groaning under the force, and Greaves’ keen eyes flicked over my face before shifting toward the balcony.
“He needs you,” I hissed, shoving past him. My boots thudded against the stairs as I descended.
Anger warred with despair in my chest. Why couldn’t Tallon be like Kallias? Why didhehave to be the one my heart longed for? There were plenty of men who treated me with respect, some even considered more handsome by conventional standards.
