I wasn’t going to think about how Trew made me feel.
Yes, he’d kissed me like I was the only star in his sky. And yes, I’d kissed him back like he was the air I breathed.
What happened was an indulgence. A lapse in judgment.
I wasn’t here to be swept up by Trewyn Valdris, even if he did look at me like I was the answer to every question he hadn’t dared ask before. No matter how his laugh felt like every sin I’d ever craved.
This was about justice and revenge andanswers.
He must know things. He’d hinted at it too many times, dancing around the truth like it was a game we were both pretending not to play.
I would not keep pretending.
I looked down at the pendant still clutched in my hand.
If I wanted the truth, I had to go to the source.
Finally, the castle settled like a sleeping beast.
Dressed in my boots that didn’t squeak, plus a comfortable tunic and pants, I stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind me with a soft click. For a moment, I simply stood there, bracing my back against the wood.
My pulse betrayed me, beating too fast, as if Trew stood right here beside me. As if he was behind me now, and I was leaning into him instead of the door.
I’d turn, look up at him, my lips parting in anticipation of his kiss.
He’d driven me to a half-dazed hunger in the sparring ring. And I’d let it happen. But he wasn’t here now.
I ran my fingers over my mouth, finding my lips still slightly swollen.
My body throbbed. I’d found complete pleasure. He had too.
“Stop it,” I hissed to myself. I bumped off the door and started down the hall.
I’d search the castle, though I doubted I’d find evidence of Addie’s presence left behind in a library or parlor. No, I’d bet anything the best place to look would be Trew’s study or office. He must have one.
If anyone questioned me, I’d pretend I was wandering. That I couldn’t sleep. That I wasn’t entirely and utterly unraveling.
I padded through the castle halls, my fingers curled tight around the hems of my sleeves. The halls had quieted. Only a few guards passed me, and the distant clang of cutlery from the kitchens had faded.
The hallways echoed with silence. Even the low torchlight seemed tired. The air in the corridor had chilled. Somewhere, a clock chimed.
I didn’t know where I was going, but I’d start on the first floor.
There, I turned a corner and collided with a steward carrying atray of used teacups and pretty little plates, his brow furrowed. I stepped back quickly, keeping my face composed.
He blinked at me, startled, then squinted as if trying to place me.
“Sorry,” I whispered with a sheepish smile. “I got turned around. I was looking for, um…” Think fast, Isi. “The tapestry hall. I thought there was one nearby?”
The steward shifted the tray in his arms and gave me a skeptical look. “It’s not on this level. You’ll want the gallery for that. Second floor, west wing.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. Second floor. Thank you.” I bobbed my head, already moving past him, starting up the stairs to the next landing. I could feel his gaze between my shoulder blades until I reached the second floor and strode toward the west wing.
I stopped a cleaning maid collecting laundry and another steward lighting a lantern with a long-tipped taper, asking them if they knew where the king’s study was. I kept my voice light, casual. Both shook their heads, their eyes going wary the moment I said “king.”
Frustration tightened its fist around my heart.
This place might be a maze of stone and secrets, but I wasn’t giving up.
