The answer to that made her both nervous and excited.
Ciana quickly dried her hands on a soft cotton towel and strode through the attached bedroom, eyeing the small bed.
She reentered the main study space and halted in her tracks.
Sebastian had closed all his books, his stack of notes organized. He leaned back in his chair, the picture of casual grace.
“So,” he said quietly, “do you still want to talk?”
Ciana’s heart pattered in her chest. “Yes,” she said softly. “I do. Because I think we should.”
Sebastian nodded. “I think we should, too.”
Silence stretched between them.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped the other day and if you’d rather just be friends?—”
“If there is anything you regret, now is the time to tell me?—”
More heat flushed Ciana’s cheeks. Sebastian chuckled. “You first,” he said, grinning.
She twisted her hands. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I overstepped the other day. I know you didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and I didn’t listen and did what I wanted anyway. If you want to just be friends, then I would understand.”
Ciana wasn’t entirely sure why that was what she decided to say. She knew—intimately—that just being friends wasn’t something he wanted. Not anymore.
Maybe it was the impending change clinging to their skin that terrified her. It would hurt if he rejected her. But losing her best friend would be so much worse.
Sebastian leaned back in his chair. Drummed his fingers on the solid wood table.
And laughed.
“The past two days,” he said slowly, “I haven’t left your side. I’ve kept you safe and calm when you thought you’d failed. I held your hand and shared your bed. And after all that, you’re worried that I thinkyouoverstepped?”
Ciana shrugged. “You also haven’t kissed me again,” she mumbled.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, Goldie.”
“You haven’t kissed me again!” This time, it was nearly a shout. The flames licking at her cheeks spread down her chest, the little black stone on her pinky finger burning. She clamped down hard, swallowed everything, and forged on.
“Yes, you’ve done all those things. But not once have you crossed that line again. Something about you is different, Sebastian, and I can’t decide what. But yes. I think I overstepped. And if I did, I’m sorry.”
Sebastian’s smile slowly fell as the words dropped like lead from her mouth. He raked a hand through his neat hair, the trim lengths falling back into place. He stood, a muscle feathering in his jaw, hazel eyes blazing.
“You’re right,” he finally said. “I haven’t.”
The air left Ciana’s lungs like she’d been kicked in the chest. “Why?” The word was choked, and a little bit of a sob, and very pathetic.
Gods, she was a mess. She was feeling too many things, and all the broken little pieces of herself didn’t know how to deal with it.
Sebastian took a single slow, stalking step toward her. Then another.
“When I was Marked,” he started, voice soft, “my family was thrilled. I was told—and I believed—that it was the highest honor a man like me could ever receive. Even if I was never Selected by the future queen, I would be respected for the rest of my life. Aleader.”
He took another step, getting close to her now. Ciana stepped back herself, moving on instinct, but he kept coming.
“Then I was Selected. I thought I was complete. I would captain the Queen’s Armature, the most elite squadron of warriors on the continent. Fuck, there at the beginning, I was so confident in all the ways I could serve her that for a moment I believed I might even be her Consort. Especially when she asked to bond with me first.”
Ciana’s back hit the wall, wood cool between her shoulder blades.
