“I thought your magic would be unbound. Why is your back like that? What happened?”
“It’s nothing. Really, please go.” He pulls the shirt over his head, wincing briefly as soon as it settles against his back.
“Don’t be like that. Let me help you, at least.”
“I don’t need your help.” He walks toward the entrance and pulls aside the tent flap.
I cross over to him and grab his wrist. “Stop trying to be so fucking noble. You’re hurt.”
He releases the fabric, then turns to face me. “Did you know you are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met?”
“Good. Now, take off your shirt.” I stare him down, daring him to oppose me.
He glares at me but the steely resolve he used to have is gone. I match his gaze, not backing down. Finally, he sighs, then shakes his head. “You’re going to get us both killed.”
“Stop worrying so much. Caiden is drunk and there’s another woman straddling his lap, so I think we’ll be alright.” I reach for his shirt and lift carefully, trying not to let it drag across his injured back.
He helps me remove it, then tosses it back on the chair. “Sorry. You shouldn’t have to watch your husband behave that way.”
“I was grateful. Maybe she’ll stab him when he falls asleep.” I shrug. “Where’s your salve?”
He opens a pouch that’s on the floor next to his bed, then passes the jar to me. We don’t speak as I carefully smear it over the slices on his back. It spreads the blood around, covering his marks. My fingers trail over the raised scars from previous injuries and my heart is heavy as I carefully cover the rest of the fresh wounds.
When I’m finished, I close the lid, then pass it to him.
“Why did you do it?” I accept a cloth from Brevan to clean my hands. “And why are you still getting punished when the emperor is dead? Shouldn’t your magic be unbound?”
“I don’t know what he did to bind me. It must have exceeded the relics inside him,” he says.
“Did you know this would happen? Did you test it out after the emperor…”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“It’s fast. I can make it so there’s no pain, remember?”
I hand him back the cloth and guilt makes my face hot. I still hate that they’re dead, but he did it in the kindest way he could.
He takes the cloth from me and balls it into his hands. “Thank you, for tending to me.”
“I am sorry,” I try again. I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to tell him this, but it just comes out. He doesn’t owe me forgiveness and it’s selfish of me to expect it of him. “I’ll go. I hope you heal quickly.”
Just as my fingers brush the fabric of the tent flap, he grabs my arm. Shivers dance across my skin and flutters fill my stomach. I don’t turn to face him, but I freeze in place, desperate to feel his touch for even a moment longer.
“If things were different,” he says, his voice rough.
“But they’re not.” It takes everything I have to walk out of that tent without looking back. I know what that touch meant. What his words implied. If I’d faced him, if I’d reached for him, he might have folded. We might be in his bed right now.
But even if he could forgive my betrayal, he’d never forgive me if I was responsible for his sister’s death.
“Your highness, everything alright?” Nate asks as he escorts me back to my tent.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“If I might speak candidly?” His tone is cautious.
“Go ahead,” I say.
