“Nothing.” I look down at my bowl and scrape the last bits of stew from the sides.
“You’ve been favoring it all evening.” His hand brushes against the neckline of my tunic.
I jerk away, the chain rattling. The empty bowl clatters to the stone floor, and the chain goes taut between us.
I glare up at him. “Don’t touch me.”
His arm is suspended from the tension I’m putting on the chain. “You’re also leaking through your shirt.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Is it a burn? Let me see.”
“No.”
His men have fallen silent, ready for trouble, their focus locked on this end of the table again. Even from across the room, Callum has looked over. Jory leans around the captain to peer at me, too.
I clench my jaw. I wish the king had told the innkeeper to have his boy lock me in the stables after all.
The taut chain is straining my shoulder, and I realize I probablyamleaking through my shirt. The mark aches like I can still feel the heat of the metal. It’ll weep and sting for days. I remember.
“It’s nothing,” I grind out. “It’ll heal.”
The king glances at the princess, and then back at me. “Asher,” he says, his tone lower. My gut clenches when he says my name. “They did something to you. Show me.”
My breathing feels too fast. If he were threatening me or ordering hismen to hold me down, I’d know how to respond. I’d snatch that dagger right off Captain Zale’s thigh and fight the whole way. His men would eventually overpower me or he’d use his magic to force me into submission, and then he’d rip the tunic free and look at whatever he wanted. No one would stop him. Half the people here would probably watch.
But this is like that moment outside. He hasn’t made a threat, and he hasn’t raised a hand. He just waits, his golden-brown eyes holding mine. No expectation, no demand, just those simple words hanging in the air between us.
They did something to you. Show me.
I can see why his men are so loyal, because there’s a shadow of guardianship here, ofprotection, that’s completely foreign to me. It reminds me of the moment he asked about the slavers, or the way he promised sanctuary. The way he said he would know Astranza’s faults as well as its promise.
The way he said,You’re mine right now.
Like he’ll start a war if he doesn’t like what he sees.
Sudden longing tightens my chest, and it’s so unexpected that my breath almost catches. Fuck.Fuck.
Because I hate him. He already tricked me once, in exactly this way. But something deep inside me craves every emotion that his voice evokes. Something inside metrustshim, despite all he’s done and all that’s happened. I’ve been broken a thousand different ways, but never like this. Never withchoice. Never withpatience.
So I let the chain go slack, link by link, and I crawl forward, returning to where I was. I lower my head so he can see, bracing myself.
When his fingers brush against the nape of my neck, my heart gives a jolt. Sweat has gathered in the small of my back, and my mouth goes dry. I realize I’m holding my breath.
This is foolish. I force myself to exhale, and it sounds like I’ve run a mile.
The king hasn’t moved his hand any farther. He’s waiting, his fingers warm against my skin.
“I don’t know what’s been done,” he says to me, and his voice is even lower. “But I won’t hurt you.”
That tightness in my throat refuses to let go, and I can feel every muscle in my body, taut and ready to spring. But his hand waits, a warm pressure on the back of my neck, and after a moment, my eyes fall closed. My palms press into my knees. In another place or time, I could almost imagine myself as something other than a bruised captive chained on the ground. I could be a friend seeking comfort. A lover offering his body. A warrior kneeling at the feet of his king...and his queen.
But this man is not my king, and Jory isn’t my queen. I’m nothing to their alliance. I’m nothing to thewar.
I’m no one. A shadow.
It’s almost enough to make me shrug off his touch. But I can’t quite make myself pull away. My breathing has slowed, some of the ready tension easing out of my muscles.
