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I sigh and close my eyes briefly, then nod my head.
“Yes,” I confirm.
“And you were sent here to kill me?”
“I was,” I say, “but I changed my mind after I met you.”
Atlas scoffs. “So you’re a horrible spy.”
“Well,youdidn’t figure it out,” I say defensively.
“But Keon did.”
I scowl up at him, tossing my hair back. I’m still a little dusty from my tussle with Corvus out in the hills, and a cloud of grey silt puffs out of the loose strands around my shoulders. “Keon knew before I even got here,” I say. “He put us all up to this.”
Atlas swallows hard, his eyes flitting to the floor in front of me. “Keon was doing what he does best,” he says. “Protecting me without me knowing it.”
“By putting an assassin in your bed?”
Atlas locks eyes with me. “You haven’t ever been in my bed, Penelope.”
Why does that hurt my feelings? Why do I hate that he’s stopped calling me ‘wife?’
“Unfortunately,” Atlas continues, “you’ve now given up the one thing that Keon thought you could leverage over me…so his matchmaking scheme didn’t go quite right. I guess what I’m wondering now is what you have to offer?”
I chew on my lip, thinking about what information I could give him. But I’m not that experienced—I don’t even have my dark veil, for fuck’s sake. I’m only here to save my friend, and it turns out I was wrong about what happened to her this whole time.
“See?” Atlas says with a bitter laugh. “You have nothing for me.”
“I’ll marry you,” I blurt out.
Jesus. This is the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard of.
Atlas frowns. “What could I possibly want with a wife who came to my house to betray me?”
I smile slightly, knowing I’ve caught him.
“I would believe you hate me,” I say. “But I don’t believe you don’t want me.”
He exhales sharply, stalking away from me. I’m not bound; I could probably slip out of my cuffs. But for some reason, I just sit here.
Because I’m no brat.
I’m agood girl.
“Why did you leave?” I ask suddenly.
Atlas looks back at me with a frown. “Why do you care?”
“Because you don’t leave someone bound and alone and exposed like that without warning,” I say. “And I was…well, I was ashamed.”
“Don’t act like this isn’t all a game to you,” he snaps.
“It isn’t,” I say. “I’m…”
I trail off, shame heating my cheeks. I’m not holding my composure, but with my hands tied behind my back again, embarrassment coursing through me, it just reminds me of how awful it felt when he left.
“What, Penn?” he demands.
