“I think it will rain later.” I cut another rose and add it to my collection.
He simply stares.
“When I was younger, I ran through the rain with my sisters. Do you have family, Alban?”
He nods.
“Children? A wife?”
The wind tousles his light brown hair as he nods again.
“Tell me about them?”
“I have a son and a daughter.”
“How old are they? What are their names?” I ask, wishing to know more about him.
Pride lingers in his tone as he speaks. “Aberem is three, and Seline is five.”
I glance up from the rosebush and smile at him. “And your wife?”
“She died.” Pain glints in his gray eyes, and his mouth tightens as he looks away for a breath.
“I’m sorry,” I say, hating that life is so cruel.
Shadows skim his solemn features as he slips his hands into his weapon belt and doesn’t speak.
Raindrops splatter the top of my head, bringing an abrupt end to my rose gathering. I hurry into the palace and toward Jasce’s bedchamber. Alban trails me, then remains outside the door as I step inside, fill a vase with water, and plop the roses inside it.
There, now the room smells nice, and it brightens the space. Hopefully, Jasce doesn’t disagree.
As I turn to leave, Jasce fills the doorway and my mouth parts at the sight of him bare chested.
“Come with me.”
“But…” I pivot and wave my hand toward the roses. “I picked roses.”
His brow lifts as he pushes the door wider. “Let’s go.”
“Are you at least going to tell me where you’re taking me?”
“No.”
I sigh and follow him from the room and down the corridor. Occasionally, I look over at him, wondering why he’s not wearing his surcoat. Did he get too hot? Or maybe he took it off so I would keep looking at him.
When I can no longer handle not knowing, I voice the question. “Where is your surcoat?”
“Outside.”
My brow lifts. “Why are you not wearing it?”
He guides me around two maids dusting tapestries. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“At least I’m not walking through the corridors practically naked.”
Those dark eyes stare over at me and trace my body. “I wish you would.”
“What?” I gasp out.
