His eyes are intent on mine, longing and uncertainty sparking there in the depths of his gaze.

Every word I said to Iisak is forgotten now that Grey is here, sharing the same air I breathe.

I glance at the window. “Iisak said he cannot bear the weight of a man. How—how did you—how?”

“He can bear the weight of a rope. And I can climb.”

My heart refuses to stop fluttering. “It is three stories!”

His lip quirks. “Ah … I didn’t look down.”

“But—the palace guards—”

“Please.” He gives me a look.

I stare up at him and want so many things. I want to kiss him again. I want to feel his fingers against my skin. I want to whisper secrets around a campfire. I want the world to narrow down to me and him and nothing else.

Everything I want goes against everything my country needs.

“You said you would obey my order,” I finally say.

“I cannot be a great king if I leave my allies imprisoned.”

I frown and take a step back. “You cannot rescue me. Grey—too much is at stake.”

“I feel as though we both need rescuing, Lia Mara.”

The torment in his expression mirrors what I feel. I press my fingers to my eyes. “You should leave.”

“Do you truly want me to?”

No.

I can’t say it. I don’t need to say it. He doesn’t move.

“We are too bound by honor and duty,” he says. “It seems a cruel trick of fate to bring us together.”

“I don’t believe in fate,” I whisper.

“Hmm. Does that make any of this feel easier?”

I swallow. “No.”

“The hour is quite late,” he says. “I should not have disturbed your sleep.”

“I don’t mind.” The words are bold, and inappropriate, and all I am doing is inviting further pain and regret. I simply cannot help myself. I want to lean into him and inhale his scent.

“I would rescue you,” Grey says. “If you would allow it.”

My eyes snap open. I don’t even remember closing them. He is so close.

“Grey …”

“Everyone else seeks to manipulate me,” he says. He breathes a sigh. “There is no one here I can trust.”

That startles me out of my swooning. “I thought you were well on your way to trusting Nolla Verin.”

“Your sister seems more eager to see if she can kill me than anything else.”

“She could not best you.” I turn away, thinking of my coquettish sister. “Trust me, you have her attention.”

He catches my waist, pulling me still, pulling me close. His dark eyes bore into mine. “Do I have yours?”

The room is so still and quiet, and his patience seems eternal, because he holds me there until the tension slips out of my body and I nod. “Yes,” I whisper. “You do.”

He leans in, his lips brushing mine with the weight of a butterfly, and my breath catches.

“Yes?” he whispers.

“Yes.”

When he kisses me again, it’s even slower, gentle and strong all at once, his hands holding me upright. My fingers clutch at his jacket, pulling him closer, until his body is against me, warm and solid against my sleeping shift. I feel as though I’m flying—or drowning. Warmth surges through my chest and lights a fire in me.

Finally, I pull away. Too many lives are at risk, on both sides of our border. “Grey. You can’t rescue me. You can’t.”

He goes still. “I could have you down the rope in minutes. I know the pattern of the guards.”

My heart thrills a little too much at that suggestion. “No.” I draw back. “Peace with Emberfall is too important. You cannot.”

“As you say.” He seems to steel himself, his eyes shutting down the way they do when he must be violent.

I don’t like him doing that with me. I was trained to be a weapon at the hand of another.

I pull him closer. “No, Grey. No.” I brush my fingers over his cheeks, his eyelids, then brush my lips against his face. “Do not hide from me.”

He yields to my touch, but I can feel the difference in his body now.

“You cannot rescue me,” I say again, so softly that the words feel imagined. “But perhaps … for a while … you could stay.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

GREY

We end up sitting beneath her window, eating leftover sugared plums and soft rolls from her dinner tray, sharing the night air and enjoying the silence. Perhaps another man would be using this time to unlace the back of her sleeping shift and cajole her into the bed, but that feels insincere. I do not like the idea of sneaking into her luxurious prison to take advantage of her. This is the first time we’ve ever been truly alone together, and it makes her seem more vulnerable somehow. More precious.

I don’t know which of us is more committed to honor and duty, but I was ready to rappel down the castle wall with her on my back, so I think it is not me.

“What are you going to do if someone comes looking for you?” she says quietly.

“My rooms are not far. Iisak is listening for trouble. Jake and Noah are sitting awake, waiting for me to return.”

“Rooms?” Her eyebrows go up. “Mother truly did want to make you feel welcome.”

I sigh. “She wants me to feel something.”

“You do not trust her.”

I look at Lia Mara in the darkness. We are speaking of her mother, so I should deny it. But there have never been untrue words between us, and I don’t want to start now. “No. I don’t. Do you?”

“I trust her to do what she believes is best for Syhl Shallow.”

I roll my eyes. “Exactly.”

“If you had not discovered your birthright, would you have stayed with Rhen, once the curse was broken?”

“Yes, of course.”

But as I say the words, I realize there is no of course about it. I consider those months in Rillisk, when I was just Hawk. After an endless cycle of season after season of torture at Lilith’s hand, followed by the danger and destruction of the monster Rhen would become … there was a simplicity I craved.

I look at Lia Mara. “I was seventeen when I became a guardsman. My family was so desperate—I just wanted a way to provide for them. I don’t think the king had any idea who I was.” I shrug a little. “Or perhaps he knew, and he liked knowing I was close, even if he could never acknowledge me. I have no idea. No one keeps secrets like the dead.”

Her eyes are warm with sympathy, but she waits.

“I had only just been assigned to guard the royal family when we were trapped by the curse. I was not an officer.” I pause, remembering. “Rhen and his sisters were fickle and capricious at best, but boredom brought out the worst of their temperaments. They often lacked for entertainment, and guardsmen eager to keep their assignments were easy targets.”

“You once said Rhen was never cruel.”

“He had his moments, but true malice was rare.” I glance at her. “Perhaps cruelty is something you must learn in order to rule.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“I see the ‘loyalty’ your mother has inspired in her people, and I think it must not hurt.”