And found his gaze already waiting.
Our surroundings fell away entirely, leaving only the rise and fall of his breath, the faint gold of the lamplight caught in his lashes, and the unguarded softness in his expression. His gaze dipped to my mouth—for a heartbeat, no longer—then returnedto my eyes. A single, fragile moment stretched between us, filled with everything we had not dared to say.
He startled as though waking from a dream, and drew back, releasing me.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice roughened, quieter than before. “I almost—” He stopped. Swallowed. “Thanks. For the dances.”
I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, keeping my tone steady, though my pulse did not match it. “Thank you for asking.”
We lingered a breath longer, neither of us looking directly at the other, neither willing to turn away.
At last, he cleared his throat. “We should join the group.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
We made our way to join the others at the entrance. Mav held the door open, and I stepped into the cool night air, the ghost of his hand still imprinted at the small of my back.
The floorboards creaked beneath my bare feet as I padded into the guest room above Branrir’s shop, the thin cotton of my new sleepwear whispering against my skin. Mav was already inside, half-reclined on the cot across from mine, one arm tucked beneath his head.
As I entered, his gaze flicked toward me. A quick, sharp flash of green and gold in the dim light—then gone, tucked neatly behind practiced indifference. Perhaps he had only been polite earlier. Perhaps the touch upon my cheek with the ink smudge or the dances had not held the same significance for him as they had for me.
I crossed to my cot and lowered myself carefully onto theedge, fingers worrying at the hem of my sleeve. “Thank you,” I said softly, not quite looking at him. “For today. For…all of it.”
Mav made a low sound in his throat, something caught between acknowledgment and amusement. “You’re the one who managed to charm half the printing staff into letting you run the press. I just stood there, trying not to look too impressed.”
I allowed myself a small smile. “You did look rather impressed.”
That earned a short laugh from him. “You looked happy.”
“I am happy with you.”
The words struck like flint, too intimate after the day we had shared. Embarrassment flared hot in my chest. “I merely meant, I felt an abundance of happiness with the events of today.”
He angled his head to more fully look upon me. His voice gentled, quiet enough I nearly missed it. “As did I.”
His answer wrapped me in a touchless embrace. I wished to burrow inside it, to memorize the shape of this simple gladness before the world could steal it away. My eyes drifted closed, the tether strumming in harmony with my fluttering heartbeat.
I had not wanted to need him, but some part of me already did.
NINE DAYS REMAINING
13
MAV
Isat on the edge of my bed, elbows braced on my knees, trying to shake the images clinging to the inside of my skull.
Not nightmares.
Memories of last night.
The press of her palm against mine on the dance floor. The soft heat of her cheek beneath my thumb as I wiped away that damn smudge of ink.
My thoughts were a minefield. Every step set something off.
She was beautiful, that much had been obvious from the first moment. But now I was noticing all the smaller things. The way she tilted her head when she listened. The way her laugh always seemed to surprise her. The way she looked at new things as if the world were presenting miracles meant for her alone.
And the way I’d suddenly developed the maddening urge to reach out and touch her again—for no reason at all except that I wanted to.
