I pull a chair up behind him and open the tin.
“You saved me, even at risk to yourself. Thank you,” he says.
“Yeah…you saved me, too, so we’re even.”
I apply the salve in silence. The rain hammers on the roof, and the fire in the oven crackles, and the only other sound is Dietan’s labored breathing. I keep my touch gentle, and I try not to stare. But as my fingers brush his warm skin, I’m acutely aware of how close we are. I could reach up and touch the fine down of hair on his neck.
But I don’t. Instead, I study the jars of jam on the shelves, and the apples in a bowl that still need peeling, and… Somehow, my gaze is drawn back to the scarred outline of the rings. Are they really in there, under his skin? Dear goddess, what a burden to carry.
“That feels good. Thanks,” he says.
I clear my throat, wiping my fingers on the rag. “Your men will be back any moment,” I say, keeping an eye on the door. “So that’s what’s after you, huh? The Kilandrar?”
“Yep.”
“It tried to kill you.”
“Yep.”
“Has that happened before?”
“Yep.”
I frown at his back and roll my eyes even if he can’t see it. “That thing might return. Why was it after you?”
He juts his thumb toward his scars, trying not to move too much. The Rings of Fate. How did that wind monster know Dietan has them? It didn’t look particularly intelligent. Granted, I don’t think Dietan is particularly intelligent, either.
That’s mean of me. From what I’ve seen tonight, he is far from dumb and very brave.
“Does anyone else know about this? Your Rings, I mean?” I ask.
He hesitates. “Not many. Father, Jared, Marcus…that’s it. I have to fix this mess I’ve made, and I don’t know if I can.”
“I think you need a warm compress now to help the salve work,” I say as I stand. I need a moment to think about what this means for me—a country barmaid getting mixed up in dangerous magic and royal secrets.
I return with one of the rags we keep right in front of the oven to wrap warm bread in. He’s still hiding his face in his arms, but despite the dim light, I can make out the shape of his lips, the cut of his jaw, and the occasional twitch of the muscle there when pain rolls through him. It’s hard not to feel bad for him, prince or not.
I want to touch him—to comfort him—but settle for draping a hot towel across his back as he tells me the whole story, about how he came to bear the Rings of Fate so cruelly under his skin. Two young boys, friends, sneaking into the war room to take a peek at treasure. One touch and then total blackness. Boyish ignorance had condemned him to this doom.
They’re the only thing protecting his kingdom and mine.
Which meansheis the only thing protecting us.
I realize, like a punch to the gut, that this is the first time he’s telling me the whole truth—being vulnerable. Unlike when we were at Veteria’s cottage when it was clear he didn’t want me to know his secret. I don’t think he’ssupposedto reveal this much to a random barmaid he’s only known for a few days, and I’m warmed by his trust. All the sneaking around, all the secrecy—it’s because he carries on his back the burden of trying to prevent a war he might have lost us when he was just a child. I’m sorry I judged him harshly, even if heisreally irritating.
When he’s finished talking, he looks at me with hope and grim resolve warring on his face. I’m not sure what to say.
“And you really think the mad king can help you remove them?” I manage, even though it was my idea in the first place.
“Yeah,” he says. “And it’s why I asked you to marry me. Will you?”
I throw up my hands. “Are you out of your mind? You nearly died,Inearly died, and you still think this is a good idea?”
“You know what’s at stake,” he says. The weight of his words feels real. I’ve been marked somehow, like he is, with the burden of knowledge. But I don’t want it. I never asked for this—but I suppose neither did he.
Do I have to pretend to be his bride, now that I know? Travel with him to the Great Waste with bells on? I blanch, suddenly relieved that neither of my sisters caught his eye after all. “I’d rather have a healthy tooth pulled with blacksmith’s tongs than be paraded from town to town like a prized cow—”
He interrupts me with vehemence. “Look, you’re one of four people who knows the truth.”
