That’s true. He and the others often have a flask of something, or a small bottle tucked away, but I never share. I shrug a little, frowning,because I hadn’t realized he noticed. I don’t know how to explain that I don’t want to do anything that reminds me of my father.
But Sephran is patient, and I don’t want to keep it a secret. He waits while I piece words together. “That drink,” I say, tapping his flask, “make father sick.”
A line appears between his eyebrows, and I know that’s not quite the right word.
“Mean sick,” I add. “Angrysick.”
Understanding flares in his eyes. “Oh.” He winces, then puts the cap back on. “Sorry.”
I put out a hand to stop him. “No, Sephran. Not you.”
He looks down at my hand on his wrist, then screws the lid the rest of the way on. Somehow it feels a little more purposeful. A little more intimate, in a way I can’t quite define. I let my hand drop, but it makes me flush anyway. Now I wish I hadn’t said anything at all. I look out at the darkening fields, because I suddenly can’t meet his eyes.
He looks out at the fields, too, which is a relief. “It never makes me mean,” he says, and his voice is casual. “Not Mal either.” He chuckles, his voice warm with fondness for his friend. He has a lot of stories about Malin, and even though I only understand about half of them, I know Sephran misses him.
“Once we had three days of leave,” he’s saying. “We almost drowned ourselves in liquor in Valkins Valley. We both drew an early watch on our first day back, and he was vomiting in the bushes every time the captain stepped away.”
When I frown at the wordvomiting, Sephran mimes it, which makes me smile.
He grins. “He begged me to tie his belt to a tree to keep him upright.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” He heaves an aggrieved sigh. “And while I was doing it, he vomited down my back.”
That’s so unexpected that it makes me laugh, and Sephran looks over. It’s grown late, and shadows are long, darkening his eyes. “You understand so much now.”
I shrug a little, but I’m pleased. “You have good stories.”
He smiles, but his gaze is searching mine, and warmth crawls up my cheeks again. I turn to look toward the palace. Half a dozen windows are lit from within, and I wonder if the prince is in there, all sad and alone.
I know I am.
The thought comes from nowhere, striking with accuracy.
I feel a tug at my hair, and I turn my head in surprise. It’s light but firm, and I think maybe it’s a prelude to tussling or teasing, but when I inhale, Sephran’s mouth lands on mine.
For an instant, I’m not sure how to react. My lips were parted, and I taste the cinnamon of the liquor before I even realize it’s happening. The kiss is small and sweet and not entirely unpleasant. But then his hand winds tighter in my hair, and I remember myself. I put a hand against his shoulder, but he’s already deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing mine. I try to pull back, but I’m against a tree and there’s nowhere to go.
I make a sound and push against him more firmly, thinking this must all be a moment of confusion. But he grabs hold of my wrist, then pins it to the tree over my head. He’s bigger than I am, and he’s still in armor, giving him enough leverage to trap me there. A spark of fear lights in my gut just as his tongue thrusts into my mouth.
I wrench my head to the side, and it breaks the kiss, but Sephran makes a low sound and moves to my neck. His free hand is at my waist now, and my body automatically recoils, sucking back against the tree.
“Sephran. Stop.” I jerk against his hold, then squirm away from the hand that’s sliding up my waist. “Stop.”
He stops so abruptly that it takes me by surprise. Part of me wasworried he wouldn’t stop at all. But he draws back and looks down at me. “Jax?”
My heart is pounding, and my hand is still trapped against the tree. He’s still pinning me here.
“Let go,” I say sharply.
His hands slip away at once, and he rolls back on his heels. For a moment, we just sit there staring at each other, and my heart refuses to stop racing.
“Jax.” His expression turns beseeching. His voice is low. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood, all right? Do you understand me? I’msorry.”
“I understand you are sorry,” I say darkly.
“Would you stop glaring at me?” He runs a hand across the back of his neck. “I didn’t attack you! You kissed me back!”
