My mouth opened, the words climbing in my throat—that this was a mistake, that I shouldn’t have asked for more—but I stopped myself. Instead, I stretched my legs, and he let go, putting me down on the ledge again.
“Was this not...” he murmured, as if he didn’t want to voice that aloud to the room.
“It was fine. But that was a kiss,” I said, not quite able to meet his eyes. More than a kiss. “I think we should go now.”
He nodded, still scanning my face. Nothing else needed to be said. Reagan removed the ledge and flung us out of the pool.
He handed me a white towel that he likely summoned while he dried his hair with another one, water still dripping down his body. I had to push away the need to feel him again. I would eventually regain the ability to construct a rational thought. Remember that, in the best of circumstances, I was his emissary. In the worst, his captive.
We finished drying ourselves in silence. After I was fully dressed again, I looked at Reagan. His shirt was on, but still unbuttoned, which reminded me.
“Is that your sentence mark?” I asked, drying my hair with a towel.
He hummed.
“It looks like there’s a deep cut in the centre,” I said, noticing as the spot gleamed against the light.
He glanced down at himself, where the mark lay etched into his skin, and his expression shifted, growing solemn at the sight. “It’s a heartstone. It’s carved into my chest.”
Warmth drained from my face. “What is a heartstone?”
Reagan paused, still drying his hair as he spoke. “It’s a type of gemstone, a gift that came with my sentence. Heartstones aretied to the essence of a person. A soul, their life force, every intangible aspect that makes you who you are.”
A gift from his sentence.How did Malory carve a stone inside his chest? I shook the thought away. “Does it affect you?”
He ran the towel over his chest. “Not more than being a bother to feel and see all the time, right under my nose. But I got used to it. It’s their intention. To have my inner self on my face, so to speak. To remind me.” His tone turned softer, thoughtful. “It shifts colour depending on my state. It should, but sometimes I think I’ve tainted this one. It’s either red like this or dark as coal, especially when I’m feeling particularly vengeful.”
His lips twisted into a humourless grin. “And if I were to become someone virtuous, more worthy, it’s said to turn ivory and bright. But it hasn’t. Not once. I guess you can imagine what that says about me.”
He gave a hollow laugh. I didn’t, regarding him—this version of him that was almost vulnerable—and wondered about the pressure he must feel. The pressure of an entire land.
“It ends on your birthday, right?” I asked. “What happens then? Will the estate’s problems just disappear?”
I wanted to ask something else:Why aren’t you happier with the prospect of freedom?
He draped his towel around his neck, sighing. “In a way, yes. Are you finished drying off?”
I gave a slight nod, draping the towel over my arm, his brief response still playing in my mind as we left the cave and entered the corridors of the castle. I felt his glances on the side of my face while we walked, our footsteps leaving a wet trail all the way to our rooms.
“Jan,” he said, stopping once we reached my door.
The nickname made me pause, drawing me from the new information I was still mulling over.
“Yeah?”
“I want you to know that this wasn’t planned.Thatwasn’t planned. I didn’t ask you to be my emissary because of this. I didn’t expect you. If I had—” He broke off, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Godric knows I’d have handled things differently. Or at least, I’d have tried.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering if that was regret, but choosing not to dwell on it. “I didn’t think it was part of your plan.”
“Good,” he said, studying my face as though searching for a hint of what I was thinking.
I kept my expression blank.
“There’s something you should know about the mageborn,” he said. “We can be very patient creatures. When we choose something, we know how to wait for it, care for it like no one else would, until we know it inside and out. But we never lose interest.”
Reagan inched forward, holding my gaze, so near that I had to tip my head back. Yet he didn’t touch me.
“I’m choosing you.”
