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He dipped his head then, kissing the center of my forehead, and that was another thing I would make sure to forget. Then, Ash rose with the same grace he had when he’d faced those creatures.
I sat up quickly, making sure the slip covered all the unmentionables as best as it could. I kept stealing glances, my gaze wandering low to where I swore I could still see the hard ridge of his arousal. He was silent, then donned his shirt. Moonlight glinted off the silver band around his biceps as he set about pulling on his boots. The last thing he picked up was the scabbard and sword.
Ash faced me then, and his stare… I could feel it as if it were a physical touch along my cheek, on my breasts, and then down the length of a bare leg. A heat followed that stare, one I had a sinking suspicion would taunt me during sleepless nights.
He looked out into the woods again. “Don’t wait too long to return,” he advised.
My brows rose as I tamped down whatever antagonistic thing surely sharpened my tongue. I didn’t know if his order came from a place of assumed authority or one of concern, and neither was something I was accustomed to. It wasn’t often that anyone told me what to do outside of being shooed away, especially these last three years.
He stepped toward me and then stopped, his hair falling to rest against his cheek and his jaw, brushing his shoulder. “I…” He seemed to struggle with how to continue.
“It was nice talking with you,” I said, speaking the honest to gods truth. Ash went completely silent and still, and my cheeks heated. “Even though you did spy upon me,” I added quickly. “Most inappropriately.”
A faint smile appeared. No hint of teeth, but his features warmed. “It was nice talking to you. Truly,” he said, and my silly heart skipped around in my chest. “Be careful.”
“You, too,” I managed.
Ash remained there for a moment before turning, his steps barely making a sound as he walked away. My smile faded a little as I watched him go until I could no longer see him in the dense shadows. There was a strange ache in my chest. A sense of loss that had nothing to do with where the kisses had or hadn’t led, nor even the absence of contact. It felt like meeting a friend and then immediately losing them. That was what it really felt like. What we’d talked about seemed like things one only shared with friends. The other stuff…well, I didn’t think friends shared that.
But it was a loss of some sort because I didn’t think I would see him again. That if he still watched, I would be as unaware as I’d been before. That maybe he realized that this had already gone too far. I thought this because he’d never asked for a name.
I was still a stranger to him.
I shook my head and rose to my feet, finding my gown in the moonlight. Pulling it on, I heard a sound that had been strangely absent.
The birds.
They called out to one another, singing their songs as life stirred once more in the woods.
Chapter 14
“There was a riot last night in Croft’s Cross. It started as a protest against the Crown and what little was being done to stop the Rot, but the guards turned it into a riot by the way they responded.” Sitting at the foot of my bed, Ezra dragged a hand down her face. She’d shown a little bit after breakfast was served, looking as if she had gotten even less sleep than I had. Shadows smudged the skin under her eyes. “Six were killed. Far less than anticipated—as terrible as that sounds. But many were injured. Fire destroyed a few homes and businesses. Some claiming that the guards set them.”
“I hadn’t heard.” Absently twisting my hair into a thick rope, I sank farther into the faded emerald cushions of the chair placed before the window. The view overlooked the Dark Elms, a place that seemed like a different world now. “Let me guess, the guards were acting on the Crown’s orders?”
“They were,” she noted, falling silent as she looked around my bedchamber. Her gaze drifted over the narrow wardrobe, the only other piece of furniture other than the chair I sat in, the bed, and the chest at the footboard. Books formed leaning towers against the wall since there were no shelves to display them. I had no trinkets or serving trollies, paintings of Maia, the Primal of Love, Beauty, and Fertility. Or Keella. Or lush settees providing ample seating. It was nothing like her or Tavius’s chambers. It used to get to me—the differences—even when I was the Maiden. Now, I was just used to it.
