Ethenn nodded but didn’t move. “Yes,” he said, answering her previous question. “I’ve seen naked women before.”
Ilain flinched. “Women?” she repeated, emphasizing the plural nature of the word.
Choosing to set her at ease, Ethenn moved to shut the curtains. “Not many, but I didn’t exactly spend my time in Trollenston’s most reputable establishments.”
“And where did you spend your time?”
“In a shady tavern and fighting clubs.” He turned back to see her sliding her nightdress, a simple, sleeveless thing made of a far thicker cotton, over the chemise. “Granted, I was there to fight or drink, not to see the women. They were just sort of...there.”
Sneakily working the undergarment off under the nightdress, Ilain kept her eyes on her task, ensuring she maintained what little sense of modesty she had left. “I had no idea Ephria could be so debauched,” she said with amusement.
“We’re not all Jonn Deckard,” Ethenn said, smiling at her strange blend of decorum and brashness.
“Evidently not.” Ilain lifted the chemise from the floor with her foot before straightening abruptly. She stared at Ethenn with something like worry. “Have you...made love to a woman?“
An instant, nervous laugh worked out of him. “No.”
She gave a steady, relieved nod and began folding the chemise.
A strange compulsion to be brutally honest drove Ethenn to add, “But I did get close once.”
Ilain paused. “You did?”
He shrugged.
“Hm.” Ilain turned to stare at the wall in thought. “I don’t like that.”
“And I don’t like that you wear provocative gowns that other men purchase to win your affection,” he returned. “We’re all hypocrites.”
She gave him a decidedly unamused smirk. “She must have been quite special, this one woman.”
Ethenn couldn’t decide if she sounded jealous or just disappointed in his impurity. “Not special, just...willing.”
“I see.” Ilain tucked the chemise and a few other items back into the bag before setting it on the floor next to his boots.
Hearing the accusatory nature of her words, Ethenn couldn’t help his smile. “I’m telling you these things, Ilain, because I want you to understand,” he said. “I’m not your knight in shining armor. I’m not Deckard, and I’m not particularly honorable. But...”
Ethenn paused, considering whether revealing these parts of himself was the right choice. If he didn’t want to be the man she desired—if hecouldn’tbe that man—then he ought to save himself the heartache of growing even more attached to her, of pretending that she could ever love him the way he loved her.
“But...?” Ilain prompted him softly. She stood beside the bed, looking small and lovely in the dim light. Her hair shone like the brightest fire. And his breath caught, recognizing that she was there; she’d come to him, chosen him, even if it wasn’t out of the same regard he carried for her.
Choosing to take Deckard’s advice, Ethenn came to stand an arm’s length away, the bedside rug bristling against his bare feet. “But I love you,” he said. “I pledged my life to you. And no matter what you think of me, no matter what you wish I could be that I’m not...I will do what I can to make you happy, even if I’m not the one you truly want.”
Ilain stood there for several long seconds, playing with the tie on the collar of her nightdress absentmindedly. Ethenn’s gaze dipped, catching the smallest glimpse of the creamy skin beneath, feeling the heat rising in his back. He imagined tugging that ribbon free, loosening the collar, and kissing every inch of flesh, every freckle along her sharp collarbone.
His throat went dry, and he met her eyes again.
“I think,” Ilain finally said, “we should go to bed.”
“Go to bed?” Ethenn asked. “Or go to sleep?”
The faintest pink tinged her cheeks, and he was pleased to find that he could make her blush too. “To sleep,” she clarified.
Though Ethenn wasn’t entirely sure what he would have said if she’d chosen the other option, he nodded. “I agree.” He glanced at the mattress. “There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“This bed is made for only one person.”
