“I haven’t…” I clamp my mouth shut, not wanting to tell him about my lack of experience. If I talk about it, I’ll remember being rejected and shattering all my looking glasses.
Lightly, Jasce strokes my skin, his touch fleeting, yet still drawing warmth to my veins. He lifts my chin, and I freeze as he lowers his mouth.
No!
At the last minute, I turn my face, and his lips brush against my cheek. He stiffens and frees me as my heart thumps wildly against my ribcage.
Frustration flares in his eyes as I will myself to count, to calm the nerves twisting into tight knots inside me.
One.
Two.
It’s not enough, the counting. The nerves are still there, tightening and coiling, and the first man I have ever rejected is still standing here, his eyes understandably distant.
“I’m s-sorry,” I whisper.
A muscle jumps in his jaw as he slips his hands into his weapon belt.
“I really am sor—”
“—if you apologize again, I’ll pick you up and put you in the fountain.”
I glance between the fountain and the stiff man. “But Jasce, I—”
He picks me up, and I squeal as he lowers me into the fountain. The water instantly soaks through my clothes before I can scramble to the edge and climb over the side. Water droplets drip down my legs as I lean over and grab the wet fabric.
“That was a terrible thing to do,” I grumble, wringing the water from my cotehardie.
“I told you to stop apologizing all the time.”
“I cannot help it.” Chills slice through me as I continue squeezing and twisting my gown.
“Why?”
My throat turns dry as Grandfather’s face sears my vision, and a memory overcomes me.
“Do you know why our guest left, Annora?”
“No, Grandfather,” I say, my voice barely carrying over the sound of my pulse roaring in my ears.
“Because you didn’t listen to me. You didn’t stay hidden.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry,” he mocks. “Is that all you have to offer?”
I blink, forcing away the memory. “Sometimes an apology is all I have.”
Jasce removes his cloak and places it around my shivering body. “Let’s go back.”
His heat engulfs me as I manage a nod and pull the edges of his cloak closer.
When we reach his bedchamber, he offers me a quick look and disappears down the corridor.
I wait until his footsteps fade, then I step toward Lyra’s room. I hurry inside and change out of my soaking wet clothes.
Goosebumps form on my skin as I grab a cloth from a shelf and use it to dry my body. It’s not enough to chase away the cold. My teeth chatter as I hurry into a clean chemise and then a clean gown.
