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“One day I might.”
A biting disappointment sat heavily upon my chest.
“But,” he began, and cool fingers touched my skin, lifting my chin. My rampant pulse quickened at the contact. Never had something as simple as a touch brought about such a chaotic reaction. “What happened to my face took place many, many years before I joined the Knights.”
I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. I’d barely heard the words he’d spoken when he was touching me. The sensation was akin to the aftermath of a well-fought round in the ring. Addicting in the most devastating way possible.
“You wear your scars well.” I spoke without thought. “If anything, they draw me to you.” And they did. If onlyheknew the reason why.
Jude abruptly dropped his fingers from my chin, clearing his throat as he placed distance between us.
Why couldn’t I simply stop speaking? My admission had broken the comfortable peace that had befallen us.
“I-I should go. As should you.”
My chest constricted at the dismissal.
Jude rose to his feet in a single, fluid motion, a blur of black cloth and melancholy silver. Avoiding my eyes entirely, he didn’t offer me a hand as I hoisted myself up.
The room lost all of the warmth that had bathed me seconds ago.
“Jude?”
“Yes, recruit?”
Great, we were back to that.
“Thank you for telling me. And for the book.” I offered the heavy volume, but his focus strayed to the wall instead, as if the moldy stones were the most fascinating things in the world.
“Yes, well, I figured it would be beneficial. Though you should finish the story.” His throat worked as he swallowed hard, the muscles in his shoulders visibly tensing beneath his taut shirt. I wondered what he wasn’t saying.
Our easy conversation had turned into something awkward and frigid, and I detested that most of all. Just when I felt like I was getting him to open up to me, he shut down. Walled himself inside whatever fortress guarded his secrets.
“Goodnight, Kiara.” Without another furtive glance, Jude bolted from the chamber, his heavy steps thundering across the cracked stones.
“Goodnight,” I whispered to his back. My arms encircled his book as though it held the answer to our kingdom’s curse, though I knew my protectiveness had everything to do with who it belonged to…
A boy who made my heart thud wildly in his presence. The stone-faced commander with a broken heart, whose past was teeming with dark secrets. And a mystery I was now determined to unravel.
Chapter Sixteen
Jude
A good man is often the one who has known the most evil.
Asidian proverb
The next morning, King Cirian sprawled across the arms of his high-backed chair, his too-long limbs splayed leisurely in front of him as if we weren’t discussing Asidia’s future or possible demise.
The king was arrogant, always had been.
The walls of Cirian’s grand war room were painted obsidian, darker than a moonless night. No pictures lined the windowless space, and the only pieces of furniture were the long black table and crimson velvet chairs, all now filled with the kingdom’s leading officials and most trusted generals.
It reminded me of the inside of a deep cave—all sharp edges with no discernible way out. Even the air tasted foul, like rotten flesh masked by the floral scent of too many lit candles.
The king had already decided my mission, and only fools argued with a man devoid of reason and gifted with too much power. My appearance here today was, for all purposes, a formality.
I leaned back in my chair, the palest of blue eyes gazing back at me from the head of the table. They were almost silver in certain lighting, unnatural and unnerving.
