She knew what she was.
“I’ve spent my whole life believing lies.”
His gaze rose to meet hers.
“Please,” she whispered, “no more.”
Torwin no longer hesitated. He stepped toward her. “IfI’dspent my life believing lies, I wouldn’t trust myself to know the truth when it stood staring me in the face.”
Asha narrowed her eyes at him, forcing him to look at all of her. She didn’t turn her cheek. Didn’t hide her scar. She forced him to look his own lie in the face.
“Why is it so hard for you to hear, Asha? You’re beautiful.”
Asha opened her mouth to refute this obvious untruth, but he interrupted.
“You’re precious,” he said, softer this time. “You’re—”
“Stop it!” She swung her fist, and he caught it. When she tried to free it, his grip tightened, so she elbowed him in the stomach.
The breath went out of him. He put his hands on his knees, breathing unsteadily.
But Torwin never gave up easily.
“It’s what I thought the very first time I saw you,” he said, recovering. “In my master’s library, pulling down scrolls.” Asha shoved him again. He staggered back. “It’s what I thought after Kozu burned you, when you stood before the entire city. It’s what I thought when they shouted at you and turned their backs on you and spat at your feet and you... you stood there and took it. I’ve never, not once, stopped thinking it.”
Tears burned in her eyes. Her throat stung with heat.
“You’re a liar.”
He grabbed her fist, pulling her into him. Asha tried to push him off, but his arms tightened around her. She used her elbows and knees, but Torwin only buried his face in her neck and held on.
When the fight went out of her, she collapsed against him. Her teeth chattered and her body shook. Her arms moved around his neck, hugging him close, surrendering to the warmth of him.
“You’re going to freeze to death,” Torwin whispered against her neck. “Why didn’t you change?”
When she didn’t answer, when she only hugged him harder, Torwin pulled away, silent and considering. She could hear the thoughts forming in his head as his gaze ran over her gown.
He was a house slave. House slaves knew these things.
“You can’t take it off,” he realized.
Asha looked down to the sand, hugging her arms now,willing her traitorous body to be still, her chattering teeth to be silent.
He held out his hand.
She didn’t reach for it. Didn’t dare look up at him. She stared at her toes. Toes she was starting to lose feeling in.
“Asha.” He said her name like it was something exquisite and exasperating at the same time. Crooking his finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face up, bringing her eyes back to his. “This won’t be the first time I’ve undressed you.”
Asha’s pulse quickened.
“I’ve spent my whole life dressing and undressing draksors,” he said. “It’s just a task. Nothing more.”
But his trembling fingers betrayed him. The nervous wobble in his voice matched Asha’s own fumbling pulse.
And still, she went with him.
Thirty-Seven
