I’m aching with need again by the time we make it outside during intermission.
The cool night air blows my dress around me and freezes my nipples into hard points as we wait for the carriage to arrive. Ronan wraps his arm around me, rubbing warmth into my shoulders.
“When the carriage gets here, I’ll warm them as well. They look cold,” he says, brushing one of my breasts with his fingertip quickly before one of the guards can see.
“With your mouth?” I ask hopefully.
He laughs. “What do you think?”
“Ronan, a quick word before you leave?”
I recognize the voice before we turn to look. It’s Cyrus. He must have spotted us leaving the theatre.
Ronan looks at me regretfully, then removes his arm from my shoulder. “What is it?”
“It’s a question Lord Junta had about the farm taxes.”
“Fuck the damn taxes,” he says. “Can’t it wait until the morning?”
“Well…” needles Cyrus. “It would really be better if—”
Ronan sighs. “Give me a moment,” he says to me. “Just one moment,” he says to Cyrus. “Make it quick.”
I miss him the moment he walks away.
Two of his guards follow him, but Taran stays with me, no doubt at Ronan’s instruction. He stands several feet back out of the torchlight of the streetlamp, but I can see him clearly in the darkness.
I haven’t spoken to Taran since Ronan told me what happened with my father. I haven’t dared say anything. But something about tonight’s activities has left me feeling bolder than usual.
“He told me, you know,” I say to him. “About what happened.”
“What?” Taran asks as he approaches.
“He told me what happened. With my father. About what you did.”
His blue eyes widen. Ronan didn’t tell him he told me. “I—I don’t—”
“I know why you did what you did. What I don’t know is whether to hate you for it or thank you for it. Because you took my father from me. But you gave me Ronan in return.”
Taran looks down at me and then looks at his feet in shame. “I’m sorry. Whether you hate me or not, I’m sorry. I couldn’t let him die.”
“I know,” I say.
We stand for a while in silence, but the carriage doesn’t come, and Ronan doesn’t return. I’m about to go back inside where it’s warm when I see a flash of light in a nearby alley. “Did you see that?” I ask Taran.
But he doesn’t answer.
My eyes detect movement in the night. There’s something out there, and it isn’t the carriage.
“Taran, your sword,” I say, but when I look back at him, I see he’s doubled over on the ground.
“Taran!” I scream. “Ronan!”
I have no weapons on me tonight. No sword, no dagger to save me.
Nothing but my magic, if I can figure out how to use it.
“Come out!” I shout. “I know you’re there.”
