Determined to stonewall him, I flip the page. “Now you do.”
“Let’s do something diverting.”
I have no wish to know what Jasce thinks is diverting. “I want to read.”
“I promise it will be worth your while. Come with me.” He takes my book, places it on the table next to me, and grabs my hand, pulling me out of the library, through the corridors, and into the courtyard.
The moon hovers over us as Jasce leads me to a small, hidden garden at the edge of the palace grounds. Torches brighten the area where someone placed a blanket and basket.
I glance between Jasce and the basket. “What is this?”
“Dinner.”
“But you said I missed dinner.”
“You did.” His eyes twinkle as he smiles. “I thought we could have a feast out here.”
Jasce wants to eat with me? I thought all he wanted to do was order me around and bed me.
As we sit on the blanket, Jasce removes a jug of wine from the basket and two goblets. He pours us each a glass. I pick mine up and take a long sip, feeling the warmth spread through my body.
“Would you like to play a game?” he asks, drawing my attention to him.
My heart thuds against my ribs as I try to anticipate what sort of game he has in mind. “What kind of game?”
“It’s called Trust. We take turns asking each other a question, but we have to answer truthfully.”
If I deny him, he’ll probably insist. Either way, I’m stuck with him.
“All right.” I take another sip of wine to steady my nerves.
Jasce picks up a piece of cherry wood from the blanket and pulls a dagger from his weapon belt. His brow furrows as he whittles the stick, his gaze intense. The sweet scent fills the air, reminding me of my brother, Behton. He enjoyed whittling, especially after long conversations with Grandfather.
“What is the one thing you’ve always wanted to do but have been too afraid to try?” Jasce asks as he continues shaping the wood.
That’s easy. I didn’t expect such a benign question.
“I have always wanted to ride a horse, but I’ve never had the opportunity.” I have stared at countless sketches of them, and I have watched other people riding them from the windows. But I was never allowed to ride on one. Maybe Grandfather thought I would spook the horses with my scars.
Jasce’s brow lifts as he pauses his whittling and glances up at me. “You have never ridden a horse before?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” He scrapes the knife against the wood, sharpening it to a fine point. “I have ridden a horse next to you, and you travel a lot.”
Lyra has ridden a horse with him.Ihaven’t.
Repeatedly, he chisels at that wood, his movements quick.
There’s a part of me that wants to spill everything to him. Then, I would no longer have the burden of keeping my secret, and I would no longer have to wait for the tree to fall and crush me.
But the memory of the men in those cages sears my mind, blinding me with the cold, hard truth. Jasce wouldn’t allow me to live if he knew I was Hakan’s granddaughter.
“I wondered why you didn’t steal one from the stables when you tried to run from me.” He glances up as he severs the tip of the stick, and my mouth turns dryer than the dirt beneath me. “Who are you?”
“I am L-Lyra.” The lie curdles inside me.
He grabs my hand and pulls me until I’m practically sitting on his lap. The golden flecks in his eyes come alive, dancing like flickering flames as he stares, his gaze so intense, a shiver slips down my back.
