With a few more pails of water, the tub is filled, and the servants depart, closing the door behind them. They didn’t bat an eye at seeing a human lady with a dark fae man together inhere. Do they think we’re married? Do they often get human-fae couples?
Have I really been so isolated from the world?
“Wait…” I turn to face him. “You say I’m not supposed to hold your hand, but it’s fine to be seen alone with you?”
“This inn is full of friends. Trusted people. They wouldn’t talk about me. And they don’t know who you are, Princess. Let’s keep it that way.”
“But…”
“If nobody knows your face and your name, what are they going to talk about? That I was seen with a dark-haired, blue-eyed lady? I’m sorry to inform you that your colors are not unusual among the humans or fae. There’s nothing so remarkable about you.”
His words cut like a blade. I bite my lip and try to control my emotions. I thought he found me… attractive, but now I’m not so sure. Could I have been so mistaken?
“Don’t worry about it,” he goes on, getting up from the bed and stretching his arms over his head. I realize I’m staring and look away.
“We will arrive at Lord Eorl’s house, and if he hears stories,” I say, “he will put two and two together.”
“Arriving with me would be enough to make him suspicious.”
“So what’s your solution?” I demand.
“Didn’t I tell you? I will, of course, leave your company before you reach the gates of the manor. I’ll make contact with my people beforehand. And I’ll go meet them as you go meet your husband. End of the story. End of the road.”
He has said so before, and yet, the pain is so visceral I stumble back a step. I can picture him in my mind’s eye walking away from me, and it already hurts. Gods, it hurts.
“What’s the matter?” His voice is sharp. He reaches for me. “Are you all right?”
I nod and step out of reach. “I’m fine.”
His hands curl into fists at his sides. “Fuck, look at you. Your eyes. Your mouth. Everything about you.”
“An unremarkable woman like me?” I throw his words back at him. “What about it?”
“I lied, Princess,” he says, his low, deep voice sending heat pooling in my belly, “I lied about not there being anything remarkable about you. You are, hands down, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Now the heat rises to my neck and cheeks. “I have scars,” I whisper.
“That little thing on your face?”
“There are more,” I admit.
“I knew there was a reason you always wear those high collars.” He winks. “Apart from being a bit of a prude, of course.”
“I’m not a prude.”
He chuckles, a deep, delicious sound I like despite my annoyance. “I thought to myself, why would anyone want to cover up any part of that gorgeous body? In the measure of theappropriate, of course.”
“You’re mocking me,” I breathe.
“No. I’m teasing you, trying to get you to open up. To show me what hurts you.”
“They are old scars,” I murmur. “They don’t really hurt anymore.”
“Scars will always hurt, Princess, and not only when it rains, and your skin pulls. The scars go all the way to your soul, am I right? Show me. And let me help.”
I swallow a whine. “How can you help?”
“They say touch heals.”
