“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
Tristan leans close again and drops his voice. “If he dies, she will die too.”
How awful.
A wave of empathy wells up inside me for her, but as I study her, she doesn’t seem like she needs my compassion. She keeps her back straight and her eyes alert as she eats in silence.
My gaze drifts to Alban next. He doesn’t budge from his place next to me, nor does his hand stray far from the hilt of his sword.
Is he worried about something?
As the night wears on, the couple leaves, and the tavern empties until only a few patrons remain. Tristan and I stay, lost in conversation.
Well, Iwouldbe completely lost in conversation with Tristan if not for my guard standing nearby, eying me. Probably thinking of ways to pull me from this tavern and force me back to the palace.
But I don’t want to go back.
I want to be free!
The door slams open, and Jasce strides into the tavern, his gaze locking onto me. My mouth parts at the sight of the tall barbarian stalking toward me, his steps determined, his mouth pressed into a thin line of frustration—frustration he aims right at me.
My chair falls over as I rush to my feet and scrub my fingers against my cotehardie. “Jasce—”
“—I have been looking for you,” he snaps.
“I was here,” I say, as if that explains everything.
It doesn’t.
His dark, smoldering eyes narrow. “You didn’t have my permission to leave.”
“Y-your permission?” Frustration loosens my tongue. “Am I your servant?”
“No! You are my wife.Mine, Lyra.”
“I’m not your possession.” I’m not anyone’s possession!
His icy gaze lands on my companion, who still sits at the table. “Who are you?”
“Tristan.”
“Well,Tristan, I will give you until the count of ten to run.”
“But I...I…” Tristan stammers.
“One,” Jasce says.
“Jasce.” I hurry to stand in front of the angry barbarian. “None of this is necessary.”
Jasce’s eyes flash. “Two.”
The legs of Tristan’s chair scape against the wooden floor as Tristan scrambles to his feet and jerks his stare between Jasce and me.
“Three.”
My heart roars in my ears as Tristan stumbles backward, looking like a mouse caught between a lion and a cliff.
