“You asked.”
Tiny snippets of David’s body language translated into Sean’s brain. The faux-casual shrug showing he was more bothered than he cared to admit. The tightness at the corner of his mouth that said he expected to be judged harshly. The haunted green of his eyes that spoke of longing for acceptance.
David never showed this much of himself. Or maybe Sean had just never bothered to look. It was like reading black words on white paper. Clear and indisputable. Somehow an invisible cord connected them, sending through an overwhelming amount of information.
“That’s fucked up,” Sean said. “I’m—I’m sorry that happened to you.”
The man’s expression didn’t change. Not a single muscle moved. But the relief and validation within was transparent. Was it the weeks of cohabitation and training together that made it obvious? That memory of a broadsword impaling his chest had only grown clearer with time, so why did he suddenly feel so comfortable with a murderer in his midst?
Except David wasn’t a murderer, was he? Not in the traditional sense. Could it really be called murder if he’d had no choice?
“I am, too,” David said before moving down the hallway toward his bedroom.
“Hey, David?”
The other man turned, brow raised.
“What did you do to Anna?”
A slight narrowing of green eyes. “I evoked an existential crisis.”
What? Really?“How?”
“By replacing all her shoes with identical pairs.” He paused. “One size smaller.”
Sean sighed, then gave in to the laughter. “Why are you both being so secretive?”
“A better question is why do you care?”
He wished he could explain it, but the rift between them was tugging at loose seams deep inside, unraveling things. “I think she’s good for you.”
A long silence followed in which David merely blinked at him. If Sean didn’t know better, he’d think the other man was taken aback.
But that couldn’t be. David was never surprised by anything.
…Was he?
In slow motion, David turned. Paused. Spun back around. Ultimately, he shook his head. “I’m going to bed.”
CHAPTER 25
DAVID
The month the natives labeled Ottalia was nearly ended before David admitted he’d made a mistake. Autumn had attempted to take Anna’s place in the library, but she couldn’t stand silence or reading or books in general, so he was more irritated by her cheerful presence than anything.
He missed Anna. It had been a mistake letting her slip through his fingers.
For hismother, of all people.
After training one afternoon, instead of studying, Autumn had taken to playing a game where she flipped a book onto her hands cover-up, scoring points for each revolution before it landed. David stared at her for several minutes, wishing he’d just agreed to Anna’s ultimatum.
“I think you might be trying to annoy me into spending time with my mother,” he said.
The book landed square on Autumn’s open palm, and she beamed. “Did you see that? Three spins!”
He sighed. “You can go, you know. I’m a big boy.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “I hate thinking of you down here alone.”
