17. Claire
Claire
What?!
My mouth fell open before I could stop it. I jerked back too fast, my balance tipping as I scrambled away from Ash. For a horrifying moment, I thought I might actually fall backwards into the dirt, skirts tangling beneath me as I caught myself just in time.
Ash watched me, so calm, unbothered—like she hadn’t just said something so outrageous. The firelight flickered across her face, catching in her dark eyes and making them seem deeper, like they hid a secret I couldn’t quite reach. It made her look… different.
More intriguing.
“What gave you that idea?” I sputtered, the words tumbling over themselves as I tried to recover.
Her lips curved. “Call it a very strong suspicion. One I’d be willing to test.”
My heart did a sudden, violent flip against my ribs. “Test?” I repeated, my voice coming out a little higher than I intended. “You can’t just go around asking people things like that. Besides, I’m... I’m engaged to Duke Halloway”
Ash let out a soft, low chuckle. “Relax, Princess. I just asked if you ever wanted to kiss a woman.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Of course there is,” she said, her tone smooth and entirely conversational, as if we were discussing the weather and not my entire worldview.
“Take me, for instance. I’m only interested in women.
But the world isn’t just black and white.
Some people like men, some people like women, and some people happen to find themselves drawn to both. ”
She paused, her dark eyes dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before lifting back to meet my stare.
“So, I’ll ask you again. Have you ever wanted to kiss a woman?”
My cheeks burned. I felt the heat blooming across my face, creeping down my neck. I wet my lips quickly, my gaze darting anywhere but hers. The trees. The fire. My hands.
Anywhere.
“Why do you even want to know?” I asked, the words rushing out in a defensive blur as I finally forced myself to look back at her. “Why bother asking me something like that? What does it matter to you?”
Ash went quiet. The easy amusement drained from her features, replaced by a sudden, steady gravity. She watched the way my hands trembled against my lap.
“Because,” Ash said softly, her voice dropping an octave. “What if you aren’t attracted to men?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand, cutting me off before I could start.
“Think about it. You’re blindly marching off to marry a man, packing up your entire life for a future you’ve never actually questioned. But your reaction reveals enough, Princess. It tells me there’s a hell of a lot more you still must learn about yourself.”
“No—no, I don’t think that’s necessary,” I said quickly, the words tripping over themselves as heat rushed to my face. “I mean—not that I’ve thought about it—I just—no.” Then, because silence felt worse, I added, “Um, thank you for your offer though.”
Ash laughed. Something in my chest twisted at the sound of her laughter. She lifted her canteen, taking a drink before lowering it again, her gaze never quitting me.
“What if you hate the way he kisses?” she asked.
“I won’t,” I said immediately.
“How can you be so sure?”
I straightened, smoothing my skirts with more force than necessary, clinging to something—anything—that felt solid.
“I’m sure he’s a good kisser,” I said, lifting my chin. “He’s a Duke.”
Ash scoffed. “Good kissing isn’t required to be a duke. It’s just a fancy title.”
“Do you know him?”
The smile slipped from her lips. “More than I’d like to.”
My curiosity sparked, pushing aside everything else. “What does he look like? Does he have long or short hair? Oh, is he taller than me?”
“He has somewhat long hair,” her gaze flicking over me in a way that made my stomach flutter unexpectedly. “And...”
Her eyes dragged from the top of my head down to my skirts, slow, deliberate.
“...he’s certainly taller than you. Which isn’t much of an accomplishment.”
“Hey!” The protest slipped out before I could stop it, and without thinking, I reached out and swatted her arm.
But my hand lingered.
The leather brace along her forearm was cool beneath my fingers, the material unfamiliar against my skin. It shouldn’t have felt like anything. And yet I noticed the contrast of the warmth of the fire at my back, the coolness of her leather under my hand, the solidness of her beneath it.
Then I remembered myself. I pulled back quickly. My palm felt strangely cold where it had been warm only seconds before, like I had stepped out of sunlight and into shade without warning.
Clearing my throat, I forced my voice steady. “Is he a… good person?”
Ash didn’t answer right away. She looked at me for a brief moment, like she was weighing considerations in her mind. But whatever she considered, she let it go just as quickly. She sighed and pushed herself to her feet in one smooth motion.
“It’s not for me to say,” she said, brushing her hands together. “Can’t spoil the surprise, right?”
The words felt too light. I watched her as she stepped away. Questions flooded in to fill the silence she left behind.
What did his voice sound like? Was it deep? Gentle? Commanding?
Would his hands be soft or rough from work? Would his fingers be long, elegant, the kind that would look natural wrapped around mine?
What color were his eyes?
Would he smile when he looked at me?
The thoughts came faster, tripping over one another, each one more vivid than the last. And yet they all ended the same way.
With me standing before a stranger.
My husband.
The word settled heavily in my chest. Strangely, it didn’t feel like it had before. The excitement that had once fluttered so brightly inside me felt dimmer now, like a candle struggling to stay lit.
A chill slipped through me. I wrapped my arms around myself without thinking, watching as Ash turned back toward the fire. She kicked dirt over the flames, smothering them one by one until the light dimmed, then disappeared entirely.
Darkness crept back in.
The questions still circled in my mind but something else had settled beneath them.
I had expected doubt, perhaps. A moment of hesitation.
But not this quiet, creeping feeling that wasn’t fear.
Not quite. I frowned, trying to name it, trying to understand why the thought of meeting him and of finally stepping into the life I had dreamed of no longer felt as bright as it once had.
Why it felt instead like something was slipping just out of reach.