How she’d left things.
She’d told him it was over. Twice, in fact. Did it matter that the circumstances that brought their end had changed? Maybe it didn’t, when that change had crashed over them in such a catastrophic flood.
Maybe the damage was done.
The thought was bitter enough to tighten her aching throat, but the thick swallow that followed broke the strange silence. Kai shook his head, remembering himself.
“Here, I thought you might need these.” He took the bundle from under his arm and thrust it toward her: mint paste, a waterskin, a small bristled brush, some linens. “Simon’s on his way down with your trunk, too, if you’d like some fresh clothes.”
She took the supplies awkwardly and turned on the spot, until her eyes landed on the small, empty wash basin propped on a tiny chest of drawers in one tight corner. Goddess, she was desperate to wash the awful taste from her mouth.
Adeline scrubbed thoroughly at her teeth, and in the grimy little mirror that hung lopsided above the basin, she caught sight of Kai still rooted to the spot behind her; even with her back turned and some of her modesty preserved, he kept his gaze trained away from her as he spoke.
“How are you feeling now?”
Kai addressed the door handle, and it was with a small tug of warmth in her raw chest that Adeline was reminded of a time not so long ago. A time when he’d taken great pains not to look at her; not, as she’d first thought, because he found her lowly or indecent, but because she flustered him. He hadn’t been able to hold her eye for fear of blushing in a most un-kingly manner.
And now—
That flicker of warmth slipped away, and in its absence, her heart slid down the inside of her chest, thick and heavy and aching.
Now it’s different.
It should have been a fond memory. The thought of Kai, her tall and stately Merrow King, reduced to stammers and sweet, pink-kissed cheeks. He wasn’t blushing now. But when she didn’t answer, Kai half-turned to her, question evident in his eyes even if he wouldn’t turn them her way. She spat a mouthful of mint and took a pull of fresh water, turning her thoughts inward to consider his question.
How was she feeling?
The nausea hadn’t returned, and as long as she could keep ignoring the gentle sway of the room around them, she thought it might even have cleared entirely. But she was tired, sotired, like no length of sleep could ever clear the fog hanging over her senses. It wouldn’t, she knew.
Because it wasn’t just her body.
She wanted to tuck her battered heart in cotton wool. Wanted to lay her shattered soul down to rest. Wanted to dim the lightsin her brain, and live in the dark and dim until the world made sense again.
Even if a part of her was sure it never would.
“I mean,” she hedged, watching his reflection. “I wish you hadn’t seen me in such a compromising position, but other than that …”
She grinned weakly into the mirror, and Kai laughed a little—just a short, surprised burst of breath, but the sound still broke some of the tension tightening not only her own chest, but the thick, salty air between them. Adeline’s own smile grew. She felt it carve into her cheeks, warm and wide as she turned, and his hazel eyes finally caught on hers, bright with a familiar, playful light.
“Adeline, I’m the last person—”
But Kai’s eyes widened mid-sentence. He cut himself off, lips wrapping tight around whatever words he’d been about to say, eyes screwing up as he turned his face away to hide his very obvious wince.
Adeline took a step toward him, without meaning to.
“The last person to what?” she prompted, but a rap on the door cut over her words, both of them flinching at the sound.
“The baggage, Your Majesty,” came Simon’s voice from the corridor.
Adeline was the first to move, stepping out of sight so Kai could open the door to the footman. With his back turned, she pressed her hands to her too-hot cheeks and counted her breaths; two long, reviving breaths in, two long, steadying breaths out. Kai dragged her trunk inside, tucking it into a shadowed corner behind the door. This time, when he turned to face her, his eyes did meet hers, despite her half-dressed state and the climbingtension in the space between them. He was unreadable until he folded his arms behind him;thatgesture she knew well enough. This was the stoic face of the Merrow King, the man he’d been to the Council and Court—but never to her. Not even when he’d wanted to be.
The last person towhat?
The last person I should feel embarrassed with?
The last person to see me in atrulycompromising position?
Kai never finished the thought, and so the silence stretched until finally Adeline cleared her tight throat.
