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Gideon stared after her.
What?
From this side of the gate, he watched her follow the footpath through the tall grass, heading toward the woods in the distance. For some strange reason, his thoughts trickled to Cressida.
He’d learned very quickly not to challenge Cress. Arguments with her came with consequences. When he disagreed or disobeyed, she would punish him—and sometimes others. Until he stopped resisting her altogether.
Rune, on the other hand, seemed rattled by his insults, but unfazed by his defiance.
It was uncharted territory. And without a map to guide him, Gideon stood motionless, watching her get further away. Not even Harrow’s voice in his head was any help.
If you genuinely liked this girl,he told himself,you would go after her.
Hopping over the gate, Gideon jogged down the path after her, his pulse beating wildly. As a general rule, Gideon avoided situations that rendered him vulnerable. Yet here he was, running straight into one.
“If we’re going to do this,” he said when he caught up with her, “there are some things you need to know.”
She glanced at him.
“So you can decide if this is what you want. IfIam what you want.”
The forest ahead obscured their view of the sea, but he could taste the brine on the breeze. They were getting close.
She studied him in the light shining from her lantern. “All right. Tell me.”
This is a game,he reminded himself, his chest tight.It means nothing.
But if that were true, why did he feel like he was walking straight off a cliff, hoping he wouldn’t fall?
THIRTYGIDEON
“THE LAST GIRL Ifell in love with was a witch,” he said.
Rune stiffened beside him.
“I met her the day my parents became royal dressmakers.”
His mother’s designs had been catching the eye of the aristocracy for nearly a year. Several months before, the money from their growing business had allowed them to move out of the Outer Wards—the poorest district in the capital—and into a tenement building in Old Town.
In a day, the queens had elevated them much further, moving their family into the palace. Suddenly, they could afford Alex’s tuition. Suddenly, Gideon no longer needed to skip meals so his little sister, Tessa, could eat her fill.
“My parents could hardly keep up with the queens’ demands, so they brought me in to help. Alex had left to study at the Conservatory, and Tessa was too young to do anything except get in the way. Cressida asked that I be assigned to her exclusively, so I went to live at Thornwood Hall.”
His stomach churned as he tried to decide how much to unearth. He didn’t want Rune to know every sordid detail of his past. But there were some things she deserved to know, before she entangled herself with him further.
“Cress didn’t only want me for her tailor.” He darted a glanceat Rune, who walked beside him, staring straight ahead. “And I was happy to fulfill her …other needs.”
“You two were intimate, you mean.”
“Yes.”
He wanted to block out the memories flooding in. Late nights in Cressida’s gardens that somehow always ended in her bed, his fingers tracing the silvery casting scars she proudly displayed on her skin like the most exquisite art.
Each casting scar had been etched by Cressida or her sisters, the collection like a wild garden growing up her body. Scar lines formed roses and lilies, buttercups and irises, all tangled with leaves and thorns and stems. The silver flowers climbed her calves and thighs, covering the left side of her torso and breast, and flowed down her arms.
Gideon’s favorites were the petal-shaped scars scattered across her collarbone.
She’d completely bewitched him.
