"Yes." He steps forward, bringing us closer together than before. "You've got a stray hair," he murmurs, reaching out and brushing it away from my face, his fingers only briefly touching my skin.
Neither of us moves, caught up in a heaviness in the air that I don't think I've felt before. My gaze slips to his lips, and I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. It's not something I've ever really experienced before, and I want it more than I thought possible.
Until Nate clears his throat and pulls away, not looking at me at all. He always seems to know what I'm thinking. Perhaps he worked it out and is trying to stop me before I do anything.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asks.
"No, I don't think so," I respond. "Perhaps we should take our seats?"
He nods and heads towards the two chairs at the front. "This is an excellent view," he says as he sits down.
"It is," I agree. "Though the one from the royal box is better."
"But comes with the downside of attention," he responds.
"Exactly. You saw how people reacted out there. They have no idea who I am."
"Do you like that?" he asks.
I frown and consider the question even as I move my dress in a way that will allow me to sit comfortably. "I think so. It's strange, but I like being sure that not everything I do is going to be scrutinised. Or end up with Mama giving me a lecture about how I'm supposed to behave."
"That could still come," he says.
"Perhaps."
"And you're not the only one. I suspect I'll be getting a lecture of my own once my father finds out about this."
"He really doesn't like me." The words slip out without me realising they're going to.
"He's worried about his position," Nate responds, leaning closer so we can hear one another better over the sound of chatter from the theatre-goers below.
"But his position isn't at risk."
"I know that. I don't think he fully knows what his problem is if I'm truly honest," he says.
"You...won't let him convince you not to spend time with me, will you?" I meet his gaze, realising as I do that this is something I'm genuinely worried about.
"He hasn't convinced me yet, and I don't intend for that to change." There's an expression on his face that's hard to read, but I can tell he means what he's saying.
Maybe this is the moment to tell him how I feel. Before I can, the orchestra begins to play, and workers move through the theatre to dim the gas lamps, including the one illuminating our box. Perhaps a confession can wait until after the performance.
Chapter 10
I'm almost disappointed by the time we're back in the castle and nearing my room. Even though I haven't managed to confess how I'm feeling, it felt good to spend time with him outside of the kitchen.
"It's hard to believe we've never done this," he says.
"You've walked me back to my room before," I point out.
He chuckles. "I mean going out of the castle for something that's entirely unrelated to food."
"Oh." I reach up and took a strand of hair behind my ear. "Would you have preferred it if we had?"
"No. I had a great time," he assures me.
"I don't know if there'll be a new play on soon, but maybe we can do this again?" I turn to him as we reach my door, meeting his warm brown eyes and seeing the same joy in them that I'm feeling within me.
"I would like that. But it doesn't have to be a play. We can do something else."
