Our food is brought out, consisting of lukewarm rice and vegetable soup with sourdough bread. We eat it without any of us saying a single word.
Adrian slows his drinking after cleaning his bowl entirely, his eyes still glazed over—but at least I don’t have to worry about needing to carry him to his room later.
The boy returns to take our bowls, and the somewhat comfortable silence between the three of us is disrupted by Adrian coughing. He looks anywhere but at us, and Graylen glares at him.
A warm hand slips onto the top of my thigh, so hot that it seeps through my dress.
My gaze swings to where Graylen sits beside me, a smirk on his mouth. He’s leaned back, his eyes on everyone dancing. His shoulders are relaxed—one arm slung over the back of his chair as he sprawls out in the wooden seat.
Maybe the ale loosened him up. My eyes find the cup in front of him, but my brows raise. He hasn’t touched it.
I clear my throat and shift to watch the room, too, trying to ignore the way his palm feels against my leg.
A woman in a low-scooped neckline grabs a man dancing in the center of the room by his shirt, her hand fisting the fabric at his chest. Her cheeks are flushed and her mouth is twisted into a frown.
The man leans in, his face mirroring hers. It’s too loud to hear what they’re saying, but she points her finger right at his nose, her chest heaving as her muffled shouts carry over the music.
At first, I think she’s about to punch him. But then, she drags her body against his, and he presses his lips to hers. His hands fly to her waist, immediately roaming around to her back and sinking low.
She doesn’t pull away; in fact, she melts into him. Her hands reach up and thread into his long, shoulder-length hair.
My mouth pops open. I’m far more used to women in Runnswick who are told toact like a ladyand never get too close to a man they aren’t promised to. But then again, Reichardt never allowed me to go into taverns on my trips to the market.
For all I know, this is how those bars were, too.
This is a side to Crea I’ve never seen, a side that’s free and wild.
It’s a side I could learn to love.
The man breaks their kiss and slips his hand into hers. Just when I think he’s about to take her upstairs, he pivots and walks them to an empty chair across from us.Directlyin our line of sight.
The woman smirks, clearly knowing where this is going, and shoves him down by his chest until he’s sitting in front of her.
My brows jump when she straddles him, her back to us, not a care in the world that they’re in a crowded bar. The man’s hands slide from her waist to her lower back, pulling her closer to him.
Her mouth lowers to his, and her back arches.
My body flushes as she grinds into him, and I can feel Graylen’s gaze on me. Heat stirs in my stomach. I slowly turn to face him.
“Enjoying the show, little princess?”His voice rumbles into my mind, making me shiver.“If I would’ve known you liked to watch, I would’ve given you something to look at a long time ago.”
I blink rapidly, my mouth slightly agape at the change in his demeanor. Graylen is so…free. So like his old self. I can’t bring myself to call attention to it, afraid I’ll break the spell over this moment.
Something shifted today while we were apart. I take a closer look at him, watching the way his chest rises and falls slightly faster than it did before he sacrificed himself to the Vale.
He turns back to the couple—unabashedly making out still—with a grin on his face. Even in his smile, I can see the scars on his heart. The way there’s no joy in his gaze, or how he still opts for communicating through our bond rather than speaking out loud.
Any heat that had stirred in my chest begins to dull.
“Graylen…” His name leaves my lips on a gentle sigh.
He’s hurting on the inside while plastering a mask over his face on the outside. A pit forms in my stomach seeing him try so hard to be what he might considernormal. The “old him.” But I’ll love Graylen through every version of himself.
“Play pretend with me for a little while,” he whispers, a desperation flickering through his gaze. “We can face our problems in the morning.”
My heart stalls. I haven’t played pretend since being in Penyth—haven’t needed to. Not with my family, my home, and Graylen showing me what it means to love reality as much as I loved the stories in my head.
As much as I want to deny Graylen, to face all of these feelings he’s going through, I can see the lostness in his eyes. The need to escape if only for one night—a feeling I know all too well.
