She thought of Jakob’s face last night when it was unguarded and real. And then how he had been when he’d stood in her hotel room just this morning, guarded and distant.
Same man. Different instincts.
“When Sven first realized how serious things were getting,” Bryn continued, “he tried to hide me away to keep me safe. I nearly threw something at his head.”
Mallory smiled faintly. “What changed?”
“I refused to be protected in ignorance,” Bryn said. “I told him that loving me meant trusting me with the truth including even the ugly parts.”
Mallory opened her eyes. “And?”
“And he learned,” Bryn said simply. “Slowly. Badly. But he learned.”
Hope flickered in her heart, small but persistent. Mallory stood. “Then I guess I need to decide if I’m willing to live inside his fear or challenge it.”
Bryn rose too. She reached out and squeezed Mallory’s hand. “Just remember that he’s not pulling away because he wants to. He might feel like he needs to.”
Mallory nodded. “He’s pulling away because he feels it’s what I need.”
As she left the library, the castle felt different. She ran her hand along the wall. Now it felt less like a fortress and more like a question.
And Mallory wasn’t sure yet how she was going to answer it.
CHAPTER 17
Jakob
Jakob stood at the edge of the stone balcony and watched the sun sink behind the mountains like a dying flame. The peaks caught the fading light first and morphed it into a deep winter blue. The tall pines along the ridge swayed gently in the cold evening wind as if the whole valley were breathing in and out.
He should have noticed the beauty of it. He usually did. Instead, all he could think about was the conversation he needed to have with Mallory.
The thought made his chest tighten in a way he refused to acknowledge as fear. He did not get afraid. He was the king who handled crises, negotiations, hostile parliaments, and international headlines. He could manage one stubborn, human woman.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
He heard her footsteps before he saw her. The soft crunch of boots on packed snow, light and unhurried, a rhythm he’d memorized without ever meaning to. When he looked down, she walked toward him across the courtyard below with a knitted scarf wrapped snugly around her neck against the mountain chill.
She gave a quick wave before she entered the castle. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. A moment later, she appeared at the door and joined him in the same place as the night of the ball.
“You said you wanted to talk,” she said. He noted her expression that was somewhere between curious and terrified.
“Thank you for coming,” Jakob replied and cringed at his own words. They sounded lame even to him.
Mallory gave a small shrug. “You sounded serious.”
He searched her face and hoped to find the same warmth he had grown accustomed to. For a long moment neither of them spoke. She stared at him with the same trust she had always put in him, but he could read the fear that she tried to hide, and the guilt hit him like a blow. He wanted to see love and warmth when she looked at him. He never intended pain and fear.
Finally Jakob drew in a breath.
“I owe you an explanation,” he said quietly.
“You owe me a lot more than that,” she answered.
Her honesty landed squarely in his chest.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I do.”
He gestured toward a granite bench carved into the balcony. After a brief hesitation, she walked over and sat. Jakob joined her and was careful to leave space between them even though every instinct he possessed urged him to close it.
