Do you think it will hurt?
The way he said,It shouldn’t...if it’s done right.
Later, when I asked about his own experience, he said,I don’t want to be indelicate.
I thought he was being coy. Not...not hiding something like this.
But now I’m thinking of the way he flinches every time I touch him. I’m looking at the scars on his body, or the areas where he has older bruising. I’m remembering the first time I heard one of my ladies called the bondsmenslavers, and I’m wondering if I should have paid more attention.
I’m thinking of that woman downstairs, curled up on the fur.
And as soon as I have the thought, I remember how long Asher was away, my relief when he finally returned to my chambers after months with no word. I teased him about a woman catching his eye, and he denied it. He never really said anything at all.
But now he’s got a body full of bruises that aren’t fresh, but certainly aren’t very old.
Were you injured?
Not really.
A tear leaks out of my eye to make a hot path down my face. “Asher,” I whisper. “I know you weren’t working with the Draegs. What really happened in Morinstead?”
The question startles him, because he recoils slightly, his eyes flicking away. But his jaw remains set, every angle of his face bearing a sharp edge.
“Tell her,” says the king. His tone is quiet, the words simple, and to my surprise, Asher obeys.
“I was given a job,” he says, and his voice is tight. Controlled. “Just as I said. But I had to travel, and sometimes that’s...challenging. In Perriden, I don’t have to worry about getting picked up by the slavers.” He scoffs. “Most of themknowme. But outside the city, bondsmen see the lines on my face, and they think I’ve escaped. They think I’m aproblem. They see a man who lies, who refuses to obey, who refuses to submit. You saw the way the innkeeper acted downstairs. I had a Guild ring, but in Morinstead, the bondsmen didn’t care. They said it was fake—and they decided I needed to be put in my place. They locked me in a cell and...did whatever they wanted.” His eyes flash dangerously at the king. “I’ll spare you the details.”
Ky doesn’t flinch from his tone. “How did you get away?”
“I know how to be patient,” he says, and his voice is somehow belligerent and heartbreaking at the same time. It makes me think of all the other times he was delayed.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I say.
“Because I loved you, Jory!” he says, and his voice is so rough and broken that I almost flinch.
“I loved you back!” I say desperately. “Ialways—”
“No.” He draws back, running a hand across his face. “You loved someone who didn’t exist.”
The words hit me like a fist to the gut.
Asher’s not done. “You think I wanted you to see me as a whore? A criminal? A killer?” He rattles the chain that keeps him tethered to the king. “An animal to be kept on a chain?”
“You’re none of those things.” My voice is barely more than a whisper.
“I’m all of those things!” He looks so vicious, and it makes my breath catch. “I know who you are, Jory. Our paths havealwaysbeen set in opposing directions. Always! The only difference is that nowyouseeme. And you willneversee me as anything else.”
I think of every moment he appeared in my chambers. The times he held me after Dane did something upsetting. The way he’d make me laugh when I felt so lonely.
The way he risked his life to save me. The way he shrugged out of his coat when I was cold.
The way he lit the stove, even though I know he was terrified of the king’s magic.
I was so cavalier, asking him to help me escape. Asking him to rescue the king. With absolutely no regard for what he risked—because I didn’t know. “I do see you, Asher,” I whisper. “I do. And you’re none of the things you said. None of them.”
He draws back, silent. His eyes don’t meet mine now. It’s clear what he believes.
“Please,” I say. “Forgive me. I didn’t know. I should have—I should haveprotectedyou—”
