“Come in,” I said.
Tristan opened the door and ducked slightly through the frame. He was carrying two glass mugs and a small clay jug, and he looked at the room first before he looked at me, as if he was taking stock of his surroundings.
“I thought you might not have been able to sleep,” he offered.
“You’re right: I can’t.”
He nodded. “How are you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
Only yesterday I’d had a blade at my throat and I’d faced down certain death. Now? Now I just felt numb.
Tristan set the cups on the side table and then picked one up and poured whatever was inside the jug into the cup. The liquid was dark, almost black in the candlelight. He brought one of them to me, then returned to the table, pulling out the chair and sat, bringing the cup to his lips and emptying it in a few gulps.
I looked down at it and swirled it around in the glass, but I didn’t drink it. Instead, I watched him watching me with those dark eyes of his which seemed to hold all sorts of mysteries.
“I’ll have you know, I had a hard time stealing this wine from the kitchen,” he explained as he motioned to my glass with his chin. “The least you can do is try it.”
I laughed at that, but still didn’t taste it. Instead, I studied him with raised brows. “You are aware that I’m sure the guards are telling Arthur about your visits?”
He smiled and leaned back into his chair, looking very contented with himself. “I made sure they won’t.”
“And how did you do that?”
“With coin.” His smile broadened, and there was something within it that was decidedly boyish. “Besides, I’m sure the king has his hands full with everything that’s happened. He’s less than interested in keeping tabs on me.”
“True,” I replied, thinking about the fact that I hadn’t seen Arthur since the moment in the Great Hall when he’d let the truth about the beast be known.
Regardless, it wasn’t something I was going to worry about, not when the fire was throwing soft light all around the room. I was still leaning against the windowsill, noticing how the courtyard below was dark and still. And Tristan was still sitting at the table. It seemed as if we’d both taken up posts on opposite sides of the room because we were too nervous about what might happen if we didn’t.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said, even though I had no idea why I’d even said it because I wanted him to stay.
“I know.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but it seemed I didn’t have to think at all because suddenly words were leaving my mouth as if they had a mind of their own. “No one knows what to think any longer...”
“About?”
“Arthur... not after what happened yesterday.”
“No. They are... confused and frightened, I’d say.” He turned his cup slowly in his hands. “Now everyone must decide what to make of what they witnessed. That’s an uncomfortable place to stand.”
I looked down at the wine, watched how the surface of it trembled slightly, and realized it was my hand that was shaking.
I looked up at him. “What do you think about it?”
He cocked his head to the side as he smiled. “I admit, I’m still deciding.”
I nodded. “Me too.” Then I took a deep breath and stared down at the rings that were forming in the dark wine. “He called me his.”
Tristan was quiet.
“In front of the entire court. Whatever lives inside him...” I set the cup on the floor before I spilled it as I faced Tristan once more. “It looked at me. Tristan, it looked at me directly. Like I was the only thing in the room.”
“What did you feel when it did?”
I didn’t answer him immediately because the honest answer was the frightening one, and Tristan had a way of receiving honest answers without flinching that made it harder to lie to him. He’d been born somewhere that looked at the world differently.Helooked at the world differently.
