Galinor looks as if he wants to object, but instead he says, “Good night, Anwen.”
I say my goodbyes, and Marigold says she will join me shortly.
Irving leads me down a narrow hall and up a flight of stairs. “Do you feel all right? Orick’s men didn’t hurt you, did they?” His face darkens, and he brushes my hair behind my ear.
I catch his hand before he winds it into my hair. “Irving, stop. I’m all right.”
Disappointment shows on his face, but he pulls his hand back. “Have you thought about my offer?”
“You know I can’t marry you.” I glance down the darkened hall, wishing someone would interrupt this uncomfortable conversation. I lean against the door and lay my head back, closing my eyes.
“We were good together.” He steps closer. “Don’t you remember?”
I do remember. Irving was all I wanted. Every hour,every minute, I longed to be with him. Those first few days of stolen moments and secret kisses were bliss. At first, it was easy to ignore the glances and the flirting—easy to dismiss it as harmless Irving behavior. But as the weeks wore on, it became more difficult.
When I don’t move away, Irving takes a step in closer. “I remember,” he whispers.
Goosebumps rise on my arms. His hair is soft and short, and even after all these years, I remember what it feels like between my fingers. Reason blurs, and I set a tentative hand on his chest.
He smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the edges and his lips tilting up in a crooked smile. Those lips were always gentle and never too eager, unlike Dimitri.
Dimitri.
Just the thought of his name steals the breath from my lungs. I clench my eyes shut while the pain of his betrayal paralyzes me.
“Oh, Anwen,” Irving says, his voice helpless as he draws me to his chest.
I sob, feeling pathetic, but I can’t stop. “Why would he leave me?” I cry into the handkerchief he hands me. “Didn’t he know how much I gave up for him? How much more I would have given?”
“He’s an idiot,” Irving assures me as he rubs my back.
I look up. I know my eyes are puffy, and my face is red and blotchy, but I don’t care. “I wasn’t good enough for you, either. Do you remember that?” I hiccup and gulp back tears, but they won’t be stopped now.
It’s Dimitri I want to yell at, but he’s not here. I smack Irving’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you want me?”
Irving’s eyes widen, and then he chuckles softly, drawing me closer, holding me tightly enough I can’t even move—or hit him again.
“I am also an idiot,” he murmurs, “and I don’t deserve you.”
“I won’t marry you,” I say against the fabric of his tunic.
He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “We could love each other, Anwen. We could be so perfect.”
I shake my head. “Couldlove anddolove aren’t the same thing.”
He releases me. I rub the handkerchief over my eyes, happy the tears are now ebbing.
“You have to marry someone.” His brown eyes search mine. “Would it be so horrible to marry a man that will make you Queen of Primewood?”
“It is when I can’t trust that man to be faithful to me.”
He looks shocked and hurt, but my resolve doesn’t waver.
“How could you think that?” he whispers.
“You’ve never shown me any differently.”
He narrows his eyes, not in anger but thought. Giving me an apologetic smile, he slides the key into the door and opens my room.
