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“I-I want you to stay.”

“I’ve already committed to staying.”

She was dodging me again. I told her I wouldn’t touch her without her permission, but I wanted to hold her face between my hands and force her to stop being coy. We were grown adults. We should be able to discuss how we felt.

“No. I mean, I want you to stay. Here. With me.”

She just pressed her lips and shook her head. “Goodnight, Yves.”

She slipped out the door and closed it behind her, leaving me exactly where she’d left me, listening to her go.

I had said the thing. I had told her I wanted her to stay. And it hadn’t worked.

Chapter 26

Protégée

CORA

The next day, Adrien and I worked all day long in the stillroom. I taught him how to make his own warding chalk and choose the ingredients with care. He decided on a powdered eggshell base, sea salt from the harbor, and ash from a blackthorn branch.

“Blackthorn is known to repel hostile magick,” Adrien recited as he mixed the ingredients.

“A fine choice,” I commended him.

I enjoyed watching him work inside the stillroom. Not just because it was tucked away beside the kitchen, a place the Duke had no business being. Adrien liked it because he got to do something he enjoyed.

But I couldn’t stop his father’s request from ringing in my ears.

I want you to stay.

I had known exactly what he’d meant, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I threw myself into the only thing that I could: potions. I worked all day beside Adrien, teaching him every trick I knew.

Before long, the heat from the setting sun was burning through the windows, and I pinned my hair into a messy bun at the nape of my neck before collapsing into a wooden chair.

While Adrien worked on his next tincture, I kicked my feet up on the workbench, reclining precariously on the back two spindly legs, reading a chapter from the green book about the corsair and the duchess.

I was getting to a good part when I felt the heavy weight of eyes on me. I glanced up to ensure Adrien was still grinding dried comfrey, and found Yves leaning against the door frame with his hands clasped behind his back, watching me. He was so still that if I didn’t know he was a real person, I’d assume he’d fallen right out of the book. With his dark brown hair and bronzed skin that made him look as if he’d been out in the sun all day. His broad shoulders. Strong arms. Wide palms.

And that jacket. Tailored to fit his tall frame and so absurdly the color of his eyes.

“Hello. Again,” he said.

The sound of his deep, musical voice shook me from whatever momentary spell I’d been under. I dropped my feet from the bench, and the chair legs clattered back to the ground. My book with it. Which fell open on a page I really wish it hadn’t.

“Your Grace,” I said, rushing to pick it up and dipping into a curtsey.

Yves held up a hand. “At ease. Please.” He strolled over to where Adrien stood at the bench, hard at work, while I invoked Damien’s name in ways I really shouldn’t around a child. “How are the lessons going?” he asked his son, setting a hand on his shoulder.

Adrien shrugged it off. “It’s not time for my lessons to be finished,” he responded flatly.

“I didn’t say it was time to finish.”

“But that’s why you’re here,” Adrien shot back. “To take me away.”

Yves drew in a tight breath. “Your Uncle has suggested we go out on an evening fishing trip with your cousins. The fresh air will do us both some good.”

Adrien stood there, grinding away, refusing to look at his father. It was as hot as the inside of a kettle in the stillroom, and I saw the benefit of the cool ocean breeze, even if I wasn’t one for the ocean either. Not after I nearly drowned chasing Mama.