But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he pulls back and frees my chin, and my heart sinks to the marble.
“We shouldn’t,” he says, his words sketching pain against my chest.
“Why not?” I ask, not able to disguise my sadness.
“Because if I kiss you right now, I won’t stop. I will yank up your cotehardie, and I will take you against this wall.”
Oh, yes.
Do that.
Pull up my gown.
Asha’s voice hisses in my ears. “Don’t you dare let him bed you.”
I swallow and muster one word. “Oh.”
Jasce shifts away from me and places his back against the stone wall and lets out a ragged breath. “I should hate you.”
“Why don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” Sincerity lingers from his words as he continues. “I have asked myself that question a thousand times.”
“And?”
“I am left with nothing but curiosity.”
“But I am Hakan’s granddaughter. I am House of Silver.” It’s a truth I could never escape, even inside someone else’s body.
Jasce shifts enough to meet my gaze. “I see no threat in your eyes.”
“I am a helpless bird,” I say, repeating Grandfather.
“No, I doubt that very much. But your heart is good.” He curls his hand around mine and leads me down the corridor. “Much better than mine.”
ChapterThirty-One
Jasce’s wordsfollow me as he leads me from the corridor and to the stables, where I mount Scarlet, and he takes Midnight.
It has been weeks since our last ride together, but the memories of those lessons come flooding back. Every word. Every brush of his body against mine when he rode behind me.
A cool breeze teases my hair as we ride side-by-side, the clopping of the horse’s hooves echoing in the air. I enjoy that sound, that rhythm, that drumming only a horse’s hooves create. It’s peaceful and soothing.
I glance over at Jasce, taking in his hard jaw as his words return, humming in my ears.“I should hate you.”
And I should hate you, but I don’t.
We continue riding until dusk settles over us. Then, we return to the stables, where we dismount, and servants take the horses.
The entire time Jasce doesn’t speak, and I cannot bring myself to break the silence. It weighs heavier than a thick rain cloud.
He confronted his father for me. Threatened him for me.
Why? I’m a nobody here.
He knows it. I know it.
When we step inside Jasce’s bedchamber, he turns to the table and picks up a basket. “I brought you something.”
