“What is the matter with you?” she asked outright, looking down at him to study his features in profile.
His only reaction to her question was a mere twitch of his scarred right eyebrow. “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes, formulating a mental list of potential problems. “Are you worried about Reyla?”
“No.” His answer was immediate. Quick—too quick.
Seraphina pursed her lips and tried another. Softer, she asked, “Have I done something to upset or offend you?”
That question garnered more of a reaction from her Crow. Something rather like pain contorted his features for all of a moment. “No,” he snapped, far louder than was rightfully necessary.
Loud enough to earn them both a glance from Olivia and Master Fitzjesmaine.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. She swallowed against the rising lump in her throat. He had never snapped at her quite like that before. Not even when he was truly furious, like that day he had told her about the pamphlets. Something was wrong.
Truly wrong.
But before she could ask him what it was, he turned toward her, closing the distance between them. Physically, at least. Emotionally, she could still sense some manner of wall there. But physically, he was there. Tentatively, his fingers brushed against hers.
“Sera,” he rasped quietly, for her ears only. Slowly, he lifted his one good eye to hers and whispered, “I need to speak to you.” After a moment, he added even softer still, “Alone.”
Chapter forty-two
Aldric
The door to Sera’s study clicked shut behind him with a finality that rattled through his bones. The room was just as he remembered it: neat and tidy—save for the maps and papers strewn across the desk. A fire crackled in the fireplace, making the room warm.
Too warm. The heat pressed against him, making the space feel too close. Too small.
Too dangerous.
Sera hovered near the center of the room, just before the hearth, worrying her hands together, her shoulders tense beneath the soft velvet of her gown. Red. She wore red today.
The fireglowed brightly behind her, catching against the strands of her hair and revealing hidden glints of red and gold among the brown—like smoldering embers, as if she carried a touch of the sun with her wherever she went.
His throat tightened.
This was a mistake. A terrible mistake.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t possibly do this.
“Aldric?” his kirei whispered, for once sounding a little young, a little unsure. “I have always wondered…” Almost shyly, she peeked toward him, gouging his heart just a little bit more. “What are you thinking about when you look at me like that?”
He swallowed hard. For a moment, he considered lying. Pretending as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. Pretending as if he wasn’t staring at her right at that moment, trying to brand every small detail about her into his mind.
Pretending as if he weren’t about to ruin everything.
But she asked him with such gentle uncertainty—such innocence—that the lies turned to ash in his throat.
“Sometimes,” he rasped, his voice cracking. Ugly and raw.
He cleared his throat and tried again. “Sometimes, you seem to glow a little.”
Her breath audibly hitched at his words.
He forced himself to continue, though each word stuck to his tongue, begging him to stay silent, to not tell her the truth. “And I just…I want to remember you like that, Sera. Glowing. Happy.”
For a few agonizing moments, she merely stared at him, her eyes wide. Speechless. Yet again, he had managed to render Seraphina de la Croix speechless. This time, he took no pleasure in it.
