Somemistakes. Not all. She had no idea where his fierce turn in support had come from, but she couldn’t accept it until he knew the truth.
She forced herself to meet his gaze, to find the softness in his boyish blue eyes. Prepared herself to watch them turn ice cold.
“Nik, that’s sweet of you to say, but my mother was—”
“I knew.”
She blinked, brows furrowed. “Knew what?”
He chewed on his response for a long time before taking the bottle back.
“For starters,” he said, “I knew who you were.”
She sat up, on guard now. “For how long? From the beginning?”
“Almost. Before the first contest, when I went looking for a mentor. I found—”
“Gaetan.”
“He didn’t give you away. He’s a trundling oaf, but he’s loyal.” It was a relief but not a shock. Gaetan had been right not to hire her, but he wouldneversurrender her to the Counseil or their police. “I went digging, and I found this.”
He offered her a photograph from his pocket. The left side had beentorn away at some point, but the people in the center were clear. Their faces were so young and filled with such hope. A tear splashed the corner, dripping down the smooth ink.
“Your mother,” he said. “And you staring up her like you do to everyone who eats your food. You wanted to please her, to have her appreciation.”
Always. Elara never would’ve started baking if it wasn’t for her mother’s intense passion for it. “This was the day she earned her Professionnelle rank. We celebrated all night.”
Gaetan had closed the shop the next day because he and her mother were too hungover to stand, let alone sweat in a kitchen all morning.
“No one else can see this,” Nik warned.
Because the rest of the people in the photograph were also known rebels, killed in the Senate attack or murdered by their own in revenge for their mistake. Elara was literally surrounded by criminals, and the Counseil would take it as evidence of her treachery.
Nik released a heavy sigh. “When I figured it out, I was angry.”
“Because she was a murderer?”
“Because I’d made a mistake.”
She lowered her chin. It hurt, but it was fair. If he’d chosen one of the other Favored, like Fiona, who was now probably sobbing on a train back to Cael, where she might never bake again, he wouldn’t be in this position.
She jumped when his long fingers took her hand, but she melted as he traced the smooth skin of her scarred palm. Elara froze, afraid any shift would frighten him off.
He was so warm and his fingers strangely soft. This was an artist’s touch, and Elara focused all her energy on not losing herself in the desire to feel both his hands skate up her arms, down her sides, and across her—
“I’m not used to people sneaking through my defenses,” he said quietly. “And I don’t invite people into my life easily.”
She stole a glance up at him through her lashes and found his intense gaze leveled entirely on her. They’d never been this close, not like this. She could smell the wine on his breath and feel the heat of his skin against her hip.
“I chose Gaetan because I was furious,” he continued, “and I wanted to throw you off. But I’d made yet another mistake in underestimating how stubborn and resourceful you can be. How powerful.”
He whispered the last two words like a prayer as he lifted her fingers to the moonlight. Gently, he turned her palm in study, as if he might see the magie flowing in her veins. Elara couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to. He’d cast a delicate spell that felt as if it might shatter at any moment.
“And now I think you’reexactlywhat the Counseil needs to help the Restes.” He lowered their hands but did not let go. “You won tonight, without Lafontaine’s help.”
“They just like a good show,” she mumbled.
“That might’ve been true to get you past the Exposé, but not now. You’re the first Restes citizen to make it to the finals. You did that on your own.”
