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“Cardamom.”
“I love that spice. Very exotic.” She brought the mug to her lips.
“Are you all right? Your cheeks are red.”
She wasn’t surprised. She’d almost been caught, which forced her to face the promise she’d made to herself, one that would end her time with Stone, probably for good.
She took another sip of the savory coffee then set her mug on the nightstand. Pulling up the sheet around her, she scooted to the side of the bed. She saw that Stone had picked up her black dress from the night before and had draped it over the back of a chair near the door.
She unwrapped the sheet, then rose to her feet, very naked.
She had to do this.
Her heart ached as she crossed the room to the chair. But what if she waited one more night? How much could that hurt?
No, the moment had come.
She sighed heavily as she picked up her dress.
She had to tell Stone the truth then beg him to forgive her for the deception. She couldn’t do it, however, without a stitch on.
She heaved another sigh as she slid the dress over her head.
“Aralynn, what are you doing? I don’t want you to go. At least not yet.”
“I need to get back to the castle.”
“Does the queen need you?”
“You could say that.”
“But you no longer serve in the Castle Guard.”
Now that the moment had come, the weight of both what she’d done and what she was about to lose crashed down on her. She turned around and crossed back to Stone, who stood by the bed, frowning deeply.
Damn. If only he didn’t look like a move star. She drew close and ran her fingers over his strong cheekbones, one after the other.
He caught her hand. “What’s going on, Aralynn? You look unbearably sad. I don’t get it.” He set his own mug down next to hers on the nightstand.
She withdrew her hand from his then straightened her shoulders. Though she’d gone into battle with Stone dozens of times over the past few weeks, some in harrowing situations, she vowed this was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.
“I’ve done you a terrible disservice, Mastyr, and I need to confess something to you. I’ve actually tried several times to tell you what’s been going on with me, and one of them was last night at dinner, if you’ll recall. Then Marny interrupted us with the brandy and made her speech which in turn made me do this horribly selfish thing.”
He shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I’ve known you for the past seven weeks and not once have you done something I would describe as selfish. Not once.”
“Stone, you were right about something. I am related to the queen.”
“Oh, is that it?” His features relaxed for a moment and he even smiled. “I sort of thought you might be. Are you her daughter? I mean these things happen. I promise you it’s not a big deal.” He took a step toward her and she could see he meant to take her in his arms again, but she couldn’t let him.
Instead, she held her hands up in a blocking motion, until he drew to a stop. His frown returned.
“I’m not Rosamunde’s daughter or niece or grandmother or anything. I’m not related in that way. Stone, I am Rosamunde.”
Stone stared at her and cocked his head. “What?” Then he chuckled. “That’s not even possible. You don’t look like her. Your hair and coloring might be similar, but this,” he waved his hand up and down to encompass her body, “this isn’t Rosamunde.”
“Maybe it’s best if I show you.”
“Well. Okay. But you’re not making any sense.”
