His fine maroon tunic was threaded through with gold, a simple crown made of vines set upon his thick hair, his deep brown eyes dancing between Sebastian and Ciana. An expression shuttered across his face, almost too quick to catch.
“Lady Visseau,” he said softly, politely, inclining his head. “I hope I haven’t disturbed you. I was hoping you would be willing to join me for a walk this afternoon.”
Ciana knew she should accept. Knew shehadto accept. But she couldn’t help the way her gaze drifted back to Sebastian, who watched her with a carefully masked expression.
She saw beneath it, though. He didn’t want her to go. No more than she did, herself.
Gods, she hoped Mariah would be able to forgive them for failing her. Hoped that the answers her queen sought were somehow, miraculously, hidden elsewhere on the continent.
“Your Majesty,” she finally said, forcing her gaze back to Niktael’s. “I am honored by the invitation, truly. But?—”
“Sir Riqueti may come as well, if that would make you more comfortable.” He gave Sebastian a nod and a polite smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Ciana blinked in surprise. Well, that was unexpected.
And probably a very bad sign.
Still, she had no other choice. Grown ass lady panties, remember?
“All right,” she said quietly, showing Nik her best courtly smile. “How can I deny a king?”
A muscle feathered lightly in his jaw, but he held kindness in his expression. Nik gestured into the hall. “After you, my lady.”
Ciana was fairlycertain she would pass away from the tense awkwardness of this walk.
Her slippered feet padded softly on the smooth floors. Niktael walked beside her at a respectful distance, hands clasped behind his back, stare fixed ahead of them.
Sebastian flanked her, a hand on the hilt of his sword, looking every bit the legendary Onitan Armature he was.
Okay, she had to admit. His protectiveness was hot.
Her cheeks flushed. She cleared her throat, desperate to fill the silence.
“So,” she began, “I assume you didn’t want to take a walk simply to stretch your legs.”
Nik smiled, but it was more like a grimace. “No. I did not.” He slowed, tilting his head to her. Uncertainty gleamed in his rich mahogany eyes.
Uncertainty, and something almost akin to shame.
“I—” He paused. “I wanted to apologize. Formally. For my behavior the other night. And for causing you any distress.”
Ciana blanched. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, Your Majesty?—”
“No. You did absolutely nothing wrong.” Nik turned away, continuing down the hall. His chin dipped, as if he wanted to hang his head but the weight of his crown wouldn’t allow it. He drew in a deep, shaky breath.
“I overstepped. I put you in a position you never should have been in. I made you feel unsafe in a place where I promised you safety. I just thought—” He shook his head.
“I presumed things I shouldn’t have, and I regret that deeply. I only hope that you can forgive me.”
“Nik—Your Majesty.” Ciana touched the king’s shoulder with tentative fingers. Guilt tugged deep in her chest, prickling behind her eyes.
He’d presumed because she’dledhim to. She’d played her little games, dangled herself before him, just as she’d come here to do. And when he’d responded accordingly, she’d lost it. He didn’t deserve that.
Nik stopped, slowly turning to face her.
“Please believe me when I say this,” she said quietly. “There isnothingfor you to apologize for.” She swallowed, emotion welling up her throat. “I’m the problem here; not you. I’m simply broken and don’t know how to be fixed.”
The space between them was quiet for a long moment.
