She stoodbefore he could protest further, before the tears burning behind her eyes could spill over, before she did something truly humiliating like crying in front of him and Kian.
"Maia—"Ewan started, but she was already moving toward the door.
"Thank ye for breakfast,"she called over her shoulder, trying to keep her voice steady. "Kian, perhaps we can continue our conversation about the rabbit later?"
Then she wasout of the hall, hurrying down the corridor with no clear destination in mind. She just needed to get away, needed to find somewhere private where she could fall apart without an audience.
The words kept circlingin her head like vultures.
A woman of yer size.
Too plump.
Undesirable.
Nae good enough.
She'd thought—foolishly,stupidly—that maybe here things would be different. That maybe without her uncle's constant criticism, she could start to feel like herself again. Could start to believe that she was worth something.
But Laura'swords had stripped away that fragile hope, had reminded her that it didn't matter where she was. Her body wasstill wrong, still too much, still something to be mocked and criticized.
And the worst part,the absolute worst part, was that some traitorous corner of her heart had started to wonder what it would be like if the betrothal were real. If Ewan actually wanted her, actually looked at her with desire instead of just tolerating her presence as a means to an end.
Foolish.Ye're so foolish.
Maia foundherself in an empty corridor near the kitchens. She pressed her back against the cold stone wall and finally let the tears fall, silent and hot down her cheeks.
She'd thoughtshe was done crying over her body. Had thought six years of her uncle's cruelty had hardened her to these kinds of comments.
She'd been wrong.
Because this hurt worsethan anything her uncle had said. Because for a brief, shining moment, she'd actually started to hope. Had started to believe that maybe, just maybe, someone could look at her and see something other than her flaws.
But that was a fantasy.A fairy tale. And Maia needed to stop letting herself believe in fairy tales.
She was Ewan's prisoner.His leverage. A useful tool in his conflict with her uncle.
Nothing more.
And the sooner sheremembered that, the better off she'd be.
Even if herchest ached with wanting things she could never have.
Even if partof her wished desperately that the look in Ewan's eyes when he'd defended her had meant something more than simple decency.
Even if shewas starting to realize that she was falling for a man who would never, could never, fall for someone like her.
Maia pressedher hand to her mouth, muffling a sob, and let herself cry.
15
"This is rubbish."
Ewan stabbedhis quill into the inkwell with more force than necessary, leaving a dark splatter across the parchment he'd been trying to focus on for the past hour.
Leon lookedup from where he was reviewing border patrol reports. "What's rubbish? The grain inventory or yer mood?"
"Both."Ewan shoved the parchment aside. "Neither. I daenae ken."
