He gets to the door of the library. His eyes swivel to mine.
But he ducks out into the hall.
Kris is already over with Dad, angling so Dad has to put his back to the door to talk to him.
I bolt.
But I don’t want it to be creepy, so I hang around outside the library for a few minutes, beating my hands on my thighs.
He’s probably in his suite now, right? Gonna risk it.
I take off, heading through the palace, but cut up short whenI hit the staircase that will angle me towards the wing with my suite. I veer left to a separate staircase, dipping through halls I rarely visit because they’re for guests who aren’t regulars like Iris.
It isn’t hard to figure out which suite the staff put him in—all the doors have wreaths on them, but only one has a wreath that’s set with glowing jack-o’-lanterns and arched black cats.
Up the hall, the way is empty; no staff or anyone wandering this late in the evening.
My heart ricochets against my ribs as I stop in front of that door. I tug at the hem of my blue button-up. Tug again. There’s a wrinkle. Crap. I can go change?
My phone buzzes.
KRIS
KRIS
Don’t chicken out.
how very dare you assume i would chicken out
KRIS
You’re considering leaving right now, aren’t you?
listen here you little shit
KRIS
Stop texting me and KNOCK ON HIS DOOR.
YOU TEXTED ME FIRST
I put my phone on mute and knock. Not because Kris told me to but because I am a fully grown adult capable of making my own choices.
And then I wince.
Because I know how this will look. Me, going to Hex’s room, alone. But Idoneed to talk to him, privately, and this was the best thing Kris and I could come up with.
I’d originally thought that the two of us combined would make one serviceable leader. Maybe that’s not necessarily the case.
After a few long seconds, the door opens.
Hex looks out at me. He hasn’t changed yet, still in the black on black of his pants, button-up, and vest, and his jack-o’-lantern-in-Santa-hats tie. That’s the only part of him that’s disheveled; he’d loosened the tie, and that minor imperfection in his usual pristine appearance makes my mind go staticky.
“Coal,” he says. He glances up the hallway. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. It has been forty-eight hours since I kissed you and that isway too damn long.
“No. I wanted to talk to you. In private.”
