It’s a good idea, but I consider the way the woman was glaring at me in the thunderstorm, the way she was clutching her husband’s hand.
Whatever happened, she won’t want a room full of people. She might not even be willing to talk to me at all, but I have to try.
I pull a tunic over my head, then look at Quint. “You can join me when I speak with Sommer, but I’ll need to talk to Leah and Adam alone.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He nods, then pauses in lacing his trousers to write that down.
I don’t know what about that requires recording, but I’m transfixed again.
Before I even realize I’m staring, he finishes writing, then looks up.
My cheeks grow warm, and I hastily look for some wool socks, then drop into one of the chairs. “And, Quint . . .” I hesitate, trying to make my voice light, to take any weight out of what I’m going to say. “Surely we’ve moved beyond formality. You can call me Harristan.”
His hands go still on the laces of his trousers again, but he says nothing.
The heat on my cheeks deepens, and I have to reach for my boots. “I’m surprised you didn’t do it on your own. You haven’t been shy about anythingelse.”
Hestillsays nothing, and he’s just staring at me now.
I tug one boot on and reach for the other. “Is this truly all it would have taken to render you speechless? If so, I would have made the offeragesago.”
“No one addresses you by your given name.” His voice is a little hushed. “No one but Prince Corrick.”
“Well, you can.”
He considers this for a little while, pulling his own tunic over his head, tugging his own boots onto his feet. It might be the longest silence I’ve ever experienced in his presence.
Eventually, he stands and says, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I couldn’t possibly.”
His response is so unexpected that I almost burst out laughing. “You couldn’t possibly address me byname?”
He shakes his head. “No. I couldn’t.”
I rise from the chair and pull on my jacket, then stop in front of him. We’re nearly even for height, though I might have him by an inch or two. “I could order you to do it,” I whisper.
A light sparks in his eye. “If you want toorderme to do things, I can personally assure you there are better options.”
My heart stutters a little, and I give him a tiny shove. He bats at my hand, and we tussle again, just for a second, which makes me smile. But then he catches my arm, almost pulling me into an embrace. I remember the moment last night when I fell against him, when I longed to be held.
That forces me still, and I stare into his eyes. What he said earlier is true: every action I takeissubject to scrutiny and judgment. That’s been my life since I first drew breath. Corrick and I have been so wary of revealing any hint of vulnerability that I can’t even think of the last moment I gave my brother a hug.
And here’s Quint offering simple human contact like it’s nothing. I want to grab hold and keep on holding.
But I have to let go. I have to remember that there’s a reason Corrick and I are so distant and so cold. I have to remember what happened to our parents and what vulnerability can lead to. The fact that my personal guards turned traitor is proof enough of that.
And as soon as I have the thought, it’s like a bucket of icy water. I have to stop hiding in this house.
“Perhaps you’re right,” I say. “The night is over. I have to be the king again.”
I don’t mean for that to sound so final, but the words fall between us like a wall. Quint steps back. “Of course, Your Majesty.” The spark in his eye burns out, and the blush on his cheeks fades. “You’ve always been the king.”
I don’t know what to say, but suddenly we’re back to where we were a day ago.
I hate it.
If I stand here for one more second, I’m going to do anything Ican to unravel the last minute of time, and that’s not prudent. So I tug my jacket straight, run a hand through my hair, and turn away.
When I step through the door, it’s still somewhat early, and there aren’t many people about. To my surprise, Thorin is still on the porch. Despite what Quint said, if my guard heard anything at all, he takes one look at my expression and snaps to attention.
