I ease the food onto the table between us and drop into the other chair. I’m not really hungry anymore, but I’m tired of making him uncomfortable, so I pick at the bread and cheese.
“I did not mean to disappear for months,” I say quietly.
He doesn’t look at me. “As I said, you owe me no—”
“Shut up, Jax. Eat.” I wish I could smack him with an arrow again.
He dutifully stabs a fork into a piece of meat. “Yes of course, Lord Tycho.”
His voice is both wry and a bit sad, and now it’s my turn for warmth to crawl up my neck. I take a long swallow of wine while I fight to remember what I was going to say.
“I made a misstep with the king,” I eventually admit. “After what happened with Lord Alek, I wanted to return to Briarlock, but Grey all but ordered me to stay at the Crystal Palace. Forweeks, I begged for the chance. But then … well, he sent me to Ironrose Castle with a chaperone. It felt like a punishment.” I breathe a long sigh. “I would have stopped here on our way to Emberfall, but I was worried Jake would see it as a deviation from my duties, which … in a way, it is.”
Jax stabs another piece of meat, but his eyes are on me now. “What was your misstep with the king?”
You.
But I can’t say that. And it wasn’t just him, anyway. I have no idea how to explain everything that’s gone wrong since I first rode into Briarlock.
I inhale to answer, but he’s set down his fork to pick up his wine, and I find myself watching the movement of his arm, the way his fingers curl around the stem, the way the glass touches his mouth. I keep thinking of that brief moment when his hand lifted to press my fingers to his face, when tears were making tracks through the blood and dirt. As he sets the glass down, a solitary pink droplet clings to his lips. A lock of dark hair falls across his face, and he absently shoves it behind his ear.
Without thinking, I reach out to tug it loose again, my fingers lingering on the strands before I let go.
He instantly goes still. His eyes lock on mine.
I have to shake myself. “Forgive me.” I drain my entire glass.
“You apologize a lot.”
That makes me smile, and I feel heat on my cheeks again. “Well.”
But then I’m not sure what else to say.
Jax drainshisentire glass.
I raise my eyebrows. “More?”
He hesitates. I fetch the bottle and pour for us both.
He doesn’t take another sip. His voice is rough. “I … don’t want to turn into my father.”
“I’ve seen the man. You could never.”
Jax traces a finger around the base of the glass, but he still doesn’t pick it up. He doesn’t nod—but he doesn’t deny it either. “I’ve heard wine will make me too honest.”
“That doesn’t sound like a problem.”
His lip quirks up, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. If anything, there’s a spark of sadness in their depths. “You do realize this is quite possibly the finest meal I’ve ever had.”
“I can send for more.”
“No.” His voice is the tiniest bit husky. The wine must be hitting him. “Thank you. My lord.”
“Please stop calling me that.”
“Please stop leaving me with memories that will only hurt later.”
I freeze.
