Page 85 of The Starling and the Hatter

“Of course,” he said as if his actions had not been monumental. “I wasn’t going to leave you.”

He wasn’t going to leave me. He’d had every reason to walk away and wash his hands of me, but he hadn’t. Not only had he waited, but he’d fought for me, with both his words and his actions.

I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms, but instead, I pulled back to look in his eyes for one moment, and I saw the relief and joy that I felt reflected back in his eyes. But there was also a sort of desperate longing pinching his brow that I understood all too well. We were both ready to get out of here and finally have a moment to focus on us, so I took his hand and tugged him toward the gate.

We remained silent as we passed the bowers and rose gardens and sculpted bushes.

As we neared the gate, my throat tightened, wondering if they’d stop our departure, but they opened the gate without hesitation. I even thought I saw one of the guards giving Hatcher a nod of respect. We stepped through the door, and after a few strides, my breathing didn’t feel so tight. I really was free.

“Why would Robert do that?” Hatcher asked into the silence. “I thought you were friends.”

“So did I. I asked him the same thing, and he just said that he’s an opportunist,” I bit out. “So once I insulted him in Lorta—”

“Lorta?”

I looked up at him, my mind starting to reach back to events before the palace, and my lips curled tentatively into a smile. “Yes. Lorta.”

His brow twitched as though trying to solve a puzzle, then he pulled me off the main road so that we were out of sight of the palace and alone.

Then he took both of my hands in his and searched my face. “What is that look?” he asked.

“What look?” I could only imagine what expression had crossed my face as I’d thought back on Garnet the mystic and all the profound knowledge she’d pulled out of me.

“Like you know a great secret.”

Did I? “Yes,” I realized. “I suppose I do,” I admitted, my eyes desperately searching his. “It’s a secret I’ve been keeping even from myself,” I said, dipping my eyes to the ground.

“About what?” He squeezed my hands, clearly anxious for me to just say it already.

“About what I am, who I am…and who I love…” I looked boldly into his eyes, the space between us waning with each moment.

His eyes darkened and he stepped closer. “Who you love?”

“Yes.”

He inched forward as his breathing turned audible. “Who? Tell me who.”

“You, Hatch,” I said with bravery and vulnerability. “Of course it’s you.” The weight that lifted from my chest with that confession nearly stole my breath.

A look of wonder brightened his face and he let out a relieved and breathy laugh. “Of course it’s me,” he said before stepping into my space and wrapping his arms around my waist. His muscled arms surrounded me, one hand at my back, the other holding the back of my head as his mouth found mine, kissing me tenderly but pulling back all too soon. “It’s about time you realized that—”

I cut him off, pressing my lips to his and holding him there. One small kiss was not nearly enough. He seemed to agree, because he willingly sank against me, his body going slack and his movements falling into a gentle rhythm as he explored my lips with his own.

A tremendous warmth washed over me, and encompassed in that warmth were feelings of safety and love…and of being wanted.

I was wanted. Not just by anyone, but by Hatcher. Hatcher who was good and kind. Hatcher who was patient and handsome and sturdy.

He pulled back and looked down into my face as he ran his fingers across my hairline and down to my ear, making me close my eyes as I shivered. When I opened them again, he was smiling down at me.

“I tried to tell you how I felt before you left.”

I blinked in surprise. “You did?”

The corner of his mouth rose along with one eyebrow, creating an adorable look of confusion. “Of course. When I told you that nothing would make me happier than taking care of you every day.”

I dropped my forehead against his chest. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Not stupid. I should have been braver. I should have told you exactly how I was feeling.”