Chapter 63
After a long, weighted silence, Hadrian sucked his lips in his mouth. He gave Kye an endearingly hard slap on the back and then bent to retrieve my riding hat from the mossy floor.
“You two will have time to talk,” he said, fitting it on my head the way a brother might, a twinkle lingering in his eye after my confession. I didn’t know how he could be so warm and accepting after the conversation we’d just shared. My stomach had raveled tight in self-induced humiliation, but it was the closest truth I could come to without admitting I’d someday kill Hadrian.
“That’s all?” I breathed as the heir to the throne turned toward the horses. “That’s it?”
“Not exactly.” Hadrian smiled, his hand massaging the base of his throat. “What did you do to me?” His voice had turned to pure curiosity as he studied me, waiting for an explanation.
I stared back at him, unable to give him one. It occurred to me that in saving his life, I likely sealed the fate of my own.
Behind Hadrian, Kye’s eyes hadn’t left mine, but his face had buried into the mask he wore whenever he was deep in his own thoughts. His eyes roamed over me, my hair, my face, my body, and with no indication of what he was thinking, I felt bare standing before him.
“You’re working with Thaan,” Hadrian mused, fingers continuing to massage his chest as he stepped back. He cocked his head slightly in Kye’s direction. “We could use her to get to him.”
Kye stiffened. He waited long enough that Hadrian turned to face him. “No. She isn”t a weapon.”
“If you’re worried about putting her at risk, she already is.”
Kye shot a glare through the woods, his jaw tensing.
“I’ll do it.” They both glanced at me, Kye’s glower burning into my eyes, but I met them unflinchingly. Married or not, I wasn’t about to let him make my decisions for me. Hadrian was right, I’d been straddling a dangerous line for months.
Kye turned his glare to me. “You will not.”
“Let her, Kye,” Hadrian said, leaving us to return to the horses.
As Kye and I followed, I realized his black mount had been there the entire time, tucked into the brush only feet from where Hadrian stood.
The crown prince sighed, and when he spoke, he directed his answer at me. “I grew up in a nest of vipers. People who pretended to be my friend for their own advantage. People willing to lie, just to get close.” The corner of his mouth lifted in humor as he reached for the reins, wrapped in the tree branch over our heads. “None of them would ever risk telling me when an idea of mine is stupid.”
At the stables Hadrian handed his reins to a young, freckled hand, murmuring a need to check in with Elros. But I knew he wanted to give Kye and me a moment alone. I lingered to comb and cool down my mare, grateful for something to do with my hands while my mind worked out the jumbled mess of the last hour.
Kye did the same in the stall next to mine, both of us, apparently, searching for something to say, until I grew impatient enough to leave the subject of Thaan and Hadrian behind altogether. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
From the corner of my eye, he nodded to himself. “Neither did I, until two weeks ago when a letter came to the infirmary.”
The infirmary.
My insides turned, and I paused to look at him.
“You were hurt?”
He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, but then shrugged, his gaze shifting across my face before glancing back to his stallion. “I’m fine.”
Apparently, the conversation was off limits. I ran an idle hand down my mare’s soft neck, forcing myself not to question what might have happened to him at Winterlight—even though it had been a gnawing plague on my stomach the past few weeks. His short answers twisted painfully inside my chest, and I steadied myself against the impulse to cross the room and force him to look at me.
“It’s not seduction the way you think it is,” I finally said.
In my periphery, he paused, then slowly continued combing. “What is it, then?”
“It’s…seduction of the mind. Not the body.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Hadrian asked me what hold Thaan has over your father,” I started carefully, watching chestnut fur shift as I glided my fingers across it. “Thaan can take over a mind if he wants to. He can make people do things, and they won’t remember doing them. They’d just wake up in the morning and go about their life, never knowing any better. He’s been teaching me since I came here.” I stalled, nervous to go on, even as some part of me wanted to tell him. To warn him of the dangers of being close to me. I needed him to know what type of threat I was. “I couldn’t figure you out. You’d been kind to me in Leihani. Then you came back to Neris Island, and you were different.”
He hung his comb on a shelf and crossed his arms, turning to gaze at me. Exhaling, I did the same.
“Have you ever used it on me?” he asked softly.
I shook my head.
“And how do I know you’re not lying?”
“You don’t.” Mihauna, I was tired. But I didn’t want to go back to the castle yet. “You just have to take me at my word.”
Kye nodded. Through the window, Cynthus sat over the cliffside, waiting for us. “Have you been to the beach yet?”
I straightened. “No.”
He unbuckled his baldric, leaning his sword against the stable door, and did the same with the knife strapped to his boot. “Want to walk down with me?”
Warmth stirred in my belly, but I tempered it. “Alright.”
Kye pulled a third blade from his belt, dropping it carelessly on the stable shelf. “The water will rust the steel,” he said, mouth quirking. “You might want to change. The waves are rough down there. The salt might ruin your dress.”
“I’ll be fine.”
I followed him over the grass to a steep, rocky trail that ran straight to the beach. One false step would have me rolling head over heels down the cliffside. Kye cleared his throat, eyeing my heavy skirts. “You’re sure you don’t want to change?”
Gnawing my lip, I stole a look at the castle. “Can they see the beach from inside?”
He raised a brow. “Not if we take a left at the bottom instead of a right.”
“Because I don’t want to go inside.”
He surprised me by chuckling. “Why not?”
“Diara will demand to know what we talked about, and I haven’t figured out yet what to tell her.”
“Ah. This is your Pirou friend?”
“Yes,” I said, suddenly curious about the royal family’s version of Diara’s story.
Kye glanced over his shoulder at the castle, then back to my dress, eyes suddenly mischievous. He shrugged.
I turned away, dragging a hand down the laces at my back, indicating where I needed his help. Mint and rain stepped in close, legs brushing my skirts as my corset loosened, the strands tugging free. He pulled the ties of my waistband with sharp efficiency, though as he stepped around me to lift the ensemble off, the look in his eyes sent tingles down my spine.
Free of the heavy garment, I smoothed my chemise, pretending not to watch him. It was pretty for something worn under a dress. White satin, sleeveless, and simple, it hugged my body loosely enough to move, ending at my thighs.
Kye folded my riding dress for me, tucking it behind a tuft of tall grass. His gaze trickled over me, raising small goosebumps down my arms. “Good?”
I nodded. “Lead the way.”
Crouching at the rocky edge, he swung his legs over and dropped onto the trail, sand and stone crunching under his feet. He turned to help me down, but I’d already climbed over the edge after him, boots scraping the jagged stone. I continued without him, but I felt his body near, watching my every move.
The trail hadn’t been used in some time. Overgrown with seaside grasses and washed with loose rock, my riding boots tried to slip out from under me, but I made it to the bottom. The tide stretched across a beach of black pebbles. Kye came to a stop at the foam fringes of the water, crouching to shuck off his boots and roll up his pants, then waded through the shallow surf. Smooth rocks clicked and rattled under my feet as my steps slowed, watching the sea drink in his calves.
Fists on his hips, he stopped to examine me, a thought clearly brewing in his head.
I met his gaze, uneasy about the way he studied me. But I’d danced around all of his questions so far. Whatever it was, I’d dance around this, too.
“I’m just trying to reconcile the person I thought you were with who you might be,” he said softly, a pain in his eyes I couldn’t quite understand. “You don’t want Hadrian dead?”
“No.” I exhaled though my nose. “I don’t.”
His brows twitched. “What were you trying to put in my tea?”
“Shield weed.” Crossing my arms, I took a step towards the water. “It protects you from seduction. I was worried about you riding alone with Thaan.”
His mouth parted, golden eyes roaming me. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
I gave a small bark of laughter, though I smiled apologetically at him. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You’d have thought it was a lie, and you were already angry. It felt like feeding the fire.”
He didn’t return my smile. Solemn, still, he watched me from the edge of the water. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I cast my gaze out over the gray sea. “I understood then, and I understand now.”
“Can we start over?”
It was my turn to study him. I wasn’t convinced he’d completely forgiven me. But I was hopeful enough to see an olive branch when one was extended my way.
“Alright.”
He tilted his head. “Are you coming in? Girl from the islands?”
I smirked. “Not island witch?”
He threw me a strange look. “Island witch?”
I sat to pull my own boots off. “You call me that sometimes.”
“I’ve never called you that.”
My movements slowed as I tucked the boots into the bottom of the trail, and my eyes met his.
His brows furrowed in understanding. “What else?” he asked cautiously.
I sighed through my nose, frowning at the edge of the gray sea, where I gathered my bearings and stepped in. “You put a knife to my throat as you arrested me.”
“I arrested you?”
“And then locked the door to my cell.”
His eyes narrowed at the water, hands coming to rest on his hips. “Anything else?”
“You barged into my rooms and cornered me, then swept my leg out from under me and made me fall.”
A small smile hinted at the side of his mouth. “That was me. And only because you tried to kick me.”
The cold rushed over the arch of my foot, but it was the assault of saltwater that caused me to gasp. It’d been too long since I’d last practiced holding onto my human body. I’d need to set aside more time in my glass box. The waves rolled past my knees, and I leaned against a boulder in the sand, trying to scrape up memories of my interactions with him since coming to Calder.
Stealing a glance at the castle, Kye inclined his head for me to trail him further down the beach, already wading in that direction.
Pushing off the stone, I followed, feet and legs cold, the sun warm in my hair.
“Then when I had a limp, you asked if I’d like you to kiss my ankle.”
His smile faltered, though I almost thought amusement flickered in his eyes. “Did you let me?”
The shoreline curved in and out of the cliffs above. Rocks created alcoves, a new view every ten feet.
“No. You took an arrow in the arm trying to get me to leave the training yard.”
A subconscious hand rubbing at the forearm in question, he nodded to himself. “Me.”
“In the cargo hold of the ship, when I refused the soup you brought me, you asked if I wanted a taste of you instead.”
“A taste of me?” he asked, eyes darting over the waves.
“You said the soup was terrible and then offered me your neck.”
Cocked to the side, he shook his head.
“And when you took me up the ladder, you made me go first and said the view had improved.” Hand over the back of his neck, he let out a short burst of laughter, a touch of rose suddenly painting his cheeks. I’d been furious at the time, but I couldn’t help but smile now.
“Forced me to the ground on our engagement night and told me you’d get rid of me.”
His smile faded, and he exhaled slowly through his nose. “That was me.”
I halted, angling myself to face him as the waves struck me sideways, stealing my balance. Fingertips in the water, I coaxed them away. Sensing my need for his full attention, Kye stopped too, waiting.
“Our wedding night,” I said. It was a question—one that I knew the answer to. But I asked anyway, needing to hear that what had happened had been his choice. The threats, the kiss, the chair—all of it.
The seriousness in his gaze returned, Kye’s eyes darkened. They hovered over mine for a moment, then dropped to my mouth as he stepped toward me. My lungs, my heart. Everything came to a soft, soundless halt as he closed the distance between us. My mouth parted as I watched him reach me and halt.
“What do you want my answer to be?” he asked softly. I stared up at him, knowing he was giving me a way out.
But I didn’t want one. Five months ago, I would have.
But not now.
“The truth.”
His eyes reflected the sun in the water, glittering down at me.
“The truth,” he repeated.
That night flashed in my head. His mouth, hot over mine. Fingers digging into my thigh as he wrapped my leg around his waist. His breath between my thighs, his tongue riding the waves of my body. Kye’s eyes heated, and I knew he was remembering it too. His heartbeat increased, the heady scent of arousal reaching me as he drifted a step closer.
“The truth is, I knew you wanted to kill me the night I married you. But I needed to know what you tasted like before you did.”