“So, what kind of work are you looking for?” Cenric asks.
“Anything. I’m not picky. I can sew, cook, clean. I’ll even muck out stables if I have to.”
Cenric raises a dark eyebrow. “I can’t picture you mucking out stables.”
“Why not?” I ask, feigning offense. “You don’t think I’m capable of shoveling horse shit?”
He laughs, the sound sending warmth through my chest. “I have no doubt you’re capable. I think you’re meant for bigger things than shoveling manure.”
I tilt my head to the side, studying him. “And what kind of bigger things do you think I’m meant for?”
The door to the ale house swings open with a loud creak, and my stomach tightens into a hard knot when I spot the tall newcomer with those strange gold eyes.
He glances briefly in my direction before striding over to a table near the back, where a young woman with pale blonde hair sits. They converse, and I take a quick sip of ale to steady my nerves, though it hardly helps.
Does Cenric know there are rebels in Karra? Does he know they want to kill him?
Cenric shifts in his seat, drawing my attention back to him. “Is something wrong?”
“Cenric,” I begin, knowing that if anyone can help me escape the gold-eyed man and his band of rat-smelling thugs, it’s him.
Before I can say more, the door swings open again, and a group of rowdy mercenaries bursts in, their loud laughter echoing through the room.
A giant of a man with scars all over his face stumbles into a table, knocking over a mug of ale. The liquid splashes across the floor, and a patron leaps up, his cheeks flushed with anger.
“You clumsy oaf!” he roars, shoving the scarred man back.
Fists fly, and the ale house erupts into chaos. Chairs topple, glass shatters, and patrons scramble to escape, some joining in the brawl while others shout for order.
Cenric stands up. “We need to get out of here.”
He grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door. I follow, knowing I’m safer with him than with anyone else.
Chapter
Five
EVERLY
As Cenricand I escape the ale house, the sounds of shattering glass and angry shouts fade behind us. We slow to a walk, and I consider inching closer, letting my arm brush against his.
When I was younger, I dreamed of confessing my feelings, but I knew it would lead nowhere. So, it has always remained my secret. I never even told Kassandra.
We round a corner and find our path blocked by a slow-moving cart pulled by a donkey. Cenric places his hand against my back, guiding me around it. His touch sends a wave of warmth through my surcoat, spreading across my skin like an out-of-control campfire.
I look up, appreciating the beauty of the night sky. There’s magic in the air. Does he feel it? The sense of possibilities?
Unfortunately, when I look at him, his expression is far from dreamy. His brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched.
What I wouldn’t give to see him smile again, to hear him laugh like he did at the ale house.
My stomach drops as Cenric removes his hand. It’s enough to shock me back to reality, back to a world where we can never be together.
I have never even been kissed. There have been plenty of opportunities, but I have always shied away from getting close to other men.
It’s pathetic, really. Here I am, nineteen summers old, and I’ve never felt a man’s lips against mine. Never experienced the rush of desire that comes with a passionate embrace.
How could I? When the only man I’ve ever wanted is Cenric?
