Because if he let himself love her, truly love her, and she betrayed him the way Freydis had... He wouldn't survive it a second time.
Magnus grabbed a clean shirt, pulled it on with shaking hands.
He'd been a fool to kiss her. Had crossed a line he'd promised himself he wouldn't cross until he was certain. Until he knew beyond any doubt that she was trustworthy.
But God, the way she'd looked at him. The way she'd responded to his touch.
The way she'd whisperedayewhen he'd asked if she wanted him to kiss her.
Magnus closed his eyes. He was in so much trouble. And he had absolutely no idea how to get himself out of it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Just a few more entries."
Magnus stared at the ledger on his desk, squinting in the candlelight. The numbers blurred together—supply counts, trade agreements, patrol rotations. Important work. Work that needed his attention.
Work that was keeping him away from his chamber. Away from Ada.
He'd been doing this for three nights now. Finding excuses to stay up late, to work until exhaustion dragged him under. Then he'd slip into their chamber after Ada was already asleep, lie down on his side of the bed and force himself to sleep before his mind could wander to dangerous places.
Like how warm she felt when she rolled toward him in the night. Or the soft sounds she made when she dreamed. Or the way she'd kissed him three days before in that very chamber,responding to him with a heat that still haunted his waking thoughts.
Magnus dropped his quill, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.
It was madness.
He'd kissed her. Had pulled her against him and claimed that kiss as his prize from their bet, and it had been everything he'd tried not to want. She'd been soft and yielding andeager, and for one perfect moment he'd let himself forget why it was a terrible idea.
Then reality had crashed back. The memory of Freydis's betrayal. The knowledge that trusting someone—truly trusting them—had nearly destroyed him once before.
So he'd pulled away. Had put distance between them. Had spent the last three days avoiding being alone with her except when they slept.
And she'd let him. Hadn't pushed, hadn't demanded explanations. Had simply continued being herself—teaching his people, learning from Mairi, treating him with the same quiet patience she showed everyone else.
Which somehow made it worse.
Because hewantedto trust her. Wanted to believe that what he saw in her eyes when she looked at him was real. Wanted to stop waiting for her to prove she was just another woman who'd use him and discard him when it suited her purpose.
Magnus stood, paced to the window. The keep was dark around him, everyone else asleep. Just him and his thoughts and the constant, gnawing fear that he was making the same mistake twice.
His stomach growled, breaking the silence.
He'd forgotten to eat. Again. Too busy avoiding Ada during meals, finding excuses to take food in his study or skip it entirely.
The kitchens would be empty this time of night. He could grab something quick—bannocks and cheese, maybe some cold meat—and then finally drag himself to bed.
Magnus made his way down the dark corridors, his footsteps echoing on stone. The kitchen fires had burned low, just coals glowing in the massive hearth. Enough light to see by, barely.
He found the bread box, pulled out a bannock. There'd be porridge oats somewhere—he could make a quick bowl, eat standing up, be done in minutes.
Magnus moved toward the pantry?—
And stopped.
Something felt wrong.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled. That instinct honed by years of battle, of always watching for threats. Someone was here. Someone was watching.
