He nods as he removes his surcoat.
“Something happened, though,” I say, still trying to pull the truth out of him.
The mattress dips as Gabriel sits on the bed. “Men tried infiltrating the city, but they didn’t reach their destination.”
“You stopped them?”
My focus shifts to Gabriel’s broad sword. How many people has he killed with that very weapon? How many of them were Kyanites? I swallow and look away.
“No. Guards had already captured them.”
I lie flat and stare up at the torchlight shuddering across the ceiling. “Who were they?”
“Kyanites,” Gabriel says in a bland voice.
My stomach tightens as I force myself to maintain my position. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t play coy.” Bitterness hovers over Gabriel’s tone. “You know your people have been attacking Bloodstone people for summers.”
“As you have.” Those three words escape me.
“You think I invaded Kyanite land?”
“I...” I dig my nails into my left palm. “I don’t know if you have, but your people have.”
Gabriel mirrors me, lying flat and staring up at the ceiling. “You’re bitter.”
“I am not.”
“Lies.” Only one word, yet it impales, rips me open, displays everything I try to contain.
Frustration singes my veins. “If I were bitter, I would have never agreed to this marriage.”
“You agreed because you want something.” The mattress moves beneath him as he shifts enough to meet my gaze. “I just haven’t discovered what.”
“I told you. Well, I told Luc. I want to belong to something greater, and I need to be useful.”
“Greater than a Kyanite?” he asks.
“I love my people.”
“Is that why you left them and married a Bloodstone warrior?”
“Are you trying to rile me?”
“No,” he says, his words driving a stake into my chest. “I’m digging at your façade until I uproot all your lies.”
Boldly, and foolishly, I draw closer and speak in a firm voice. “Then enjoy playing with dirt, Gabriel.”
A half smile pulls at his mouth as he sweeps his blue eyes over me. “That’s the second spark I have seen in you.”
For several breaths, I analyze his tone, feeling his words as much as hearing them. Was that admiration I heard?
This is my window, my one opportunity to win his favor. “Is that what you like?” I ask in a throaty voice that sounds nothing like the women in Father’s brothel. Instead, I sound croaky. “A spark?”
He blinks and shifts to lying flat again. “Don’t.”
“Or?” The bedcovers brush against my arm as I draw even closer. “You’ll kiss me the way you did earlier?”
