Did that mean he cared about me? Could someday love me? Even though I’d messed up his politics and stolen from his castle?
He’d said things that hinted at that, but that’s all I had. Lots of little hints. I already trusted him more than I’d trusted anyone in fourteen years, but to risk letting myself love him?
I needed more than these vague hints.
His hands shifted to lift mine higher, over my shoulder, where he bent his head close to mine and brushed a kiss on the top of my thumb knuckle. “A pastry for your thoughts?”
I laughed and ducked my head. “A pastry? You know the way to my heart.”
He settled my hand on my own shoulder and ran his thumb over the knuckles. “Hardly. I get these little windows into your soul—a woman who should have been fed far more bread in her life, who loves sparkling jewels, but more for their curiosity than their value, who doesn’t sit still well but hesitates to assert herself too much, who is inclined to trust and love but then stops herself and pulls back, who is frighteningly loyal, and whose mouth never accepted the discipline the rest of her managed—and every time I see a little more, I am drawn to you. Like a moth to a candle, I want to know you more.”
As he spoke, his shadows wrapped around us both, feather-light, drawing us closer together like a hug while still offering more room for me to resist than I’d ever need. When he stopped speaking, he had one hand on mine (still on my shoulder) and one hand on my other shoulder. His shadows stopped moving and hung, suspended in the air as if he’d told them they couldn’t hug me.
His voice dropped lower. “Then I remind myself that it isn’t fair to expect anything more from you in this relationship than you’ve already promised. And I promised not to touch you without permission.” He did not take his hands off my shoulders though. “So it might not seem fair to make you speak feelings first, but I cannot act on anything less than your permission.”
My mouth opened to give him permission, but I clamped it closed. We were married. The idea of both of us learning to love each other sounded impossibly wonderful, but I would not be able to avoid looking at him for a year if he told me he loved me. We were already dangerously close as it was.
And I’d promised to break his curse. I might steal and lie, but I would not break a promise.
He squeezed my shoulders, a silent response to my silent answer. Then the pressure from his hands disappeared.
“Wait!” I didn’t want him to think he couldn’t touch me at all!
“I’m not going anywhere. I have something for you.” He reached over my shoulders, in front of my chest, and dangled a key as big as my palm from a fine golden chain that looked too slim to hold the key’s weight. “This is for you.”
I took the key, and he dropped the chain over my hand. “It’s a skeleton key,” he explained. “It will open any door in this castle or in our fortress on Umbran lands.”
I ran my thumb along the key’s cool surface, trying to identify the energy that radiated from the metal. “How can one key open doors in two buildings?”
“I’ve filled it with my magic. It will do more than just open doors.”
And then I realized—the energy that pulsed from the key was Bylur’s power. The same gentle thrill I’d just felt from his shadows wrapping around me emanated from the ring. He was giving me access to his magic! At least enough to open doors. “And you’re giving it to me? A thief?”
“Oh, Auria. I do not see you as a thief.”
“You don’t?” That was how I’d seen myself for more than a decade. A thief or a servant. And now a lady, though Bylur knew me well enough to see through that title.
“No.” His words were soft but firm. “I see you as a hero.”
How? I clenched my hand around his key and squeaked, “A hero?”
“Yes.” He settled his hands on my upper arms, and I sighed out my relief that I hadn’t scared him away from touching me at all. “A hero because you face things that frighten you and rescue people who are cursed.”
I blinked to keep tears from forming. I hadn’t rescued him yet, but he’d chosen to see that part of me, even with the evidence of my less desirable traits spread on the bed in front of us.
“I would be honored,” he added, “if you would wear the key close to your heart. It will give you better access to the magic I put in it for you.”
I looped the chain over my head and nestled the key inside the layers of fabric at my neck. As the cool metal touched my chest, a wave of magic filled my senses. It enveloped me like the heat from a blazing summer sun, but it wasn’t warm. No, it lightened the air around me like a soft breeze while making me more aware of Bylur and his magic. His presence burned in my mind—I knew where he stood and how each of his smoky shadows were moving and where they would move next.
I pressed a hand against my chest, touching the key through my dress. “Bylur,” I whispered. “This is incredible. I… I do not think I deserve this. I haven’t broken your curse yet.”
“This has nothing to do with my curse.” Bylur’s low voice took on an intense tone. “This is because you are my wife, and I—” He cut himself off and started again two seconds later. “I could not promise you more than safety and my best attempt at happiness when we married, but I know you better now. I would promise youeverything I possessed if I did not think it would scare you. Perhaps someday we will be more than partners in a contract that is mutually convenient. In the meantime, you should enjoy as many benefits of marrying the Lord of Umbran House as possible.”
It was so generous it made my head spin. “How can you trust that I won’t use the key to destroy your castle? Or your council plans? Or—”
He cut me off with a soft chuckle. “Because I know you. You’ve spent weeks trying to help. And you try to fix things you’ve messed up even when it terrifies you. I don’t think you’ll get into any more trouble with a key than you did without it.”
I closed my eyes, spun around, buried my face in his chest, and hugged his waist.
