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“They just know.”

My eyes rolled. “Because that isn’t vague.”

He chuckled. “The connection is soul-deep, Diora. Does your soul come out and speak to you? Mine certainly doesn’t.”

“So you’ve saved yourself for her, mind, body, and soul.”

“Yes.”

I shook my head up at the ceiling, not believing that I was talking about fated mates with the man I was supposed to murder. “You can’t expect her to have done the same for you.”

“I don’t,” he agreed.

Though I waited for more of an explanation, it didn’t come.

“Then why save yourself?” I finally asked, unzipping the tent and sliding my legs out first. My bare feet met the cold, rocky ground, and I tried not to shiver.

“Because when I meet her, I don’t want her to question my dedication,” he said simply. “I don’t want her to wonder how she compares to previous partners, or to worry that she isn’t enough.”

“But you don’t know if shewillbe enough.”

His lips curved upward. “Love is a choice, Diora. Ichoosewhether or not she’s enough—and she will always be enough for me.”

“I suppose she’ll be a lucky woman then, won’t she?” I crossed the clearing, snagging my dress off the branch and then tugging its opening over my head. It was dry, but cold.

“The big tent was meant to be yours.” Namir gestured toward it. “I was going to sleep in the small one.”

I shrugged. “You’re the king; you take it.” I headed back toward the food.

“There’s warm breakfast in the castle. Oatmeal, and fresh fruit. Hot rolls, with jam,” he remarked, following me into the large tent.

“Go ahead and eat, then.” I sat down beside my dried food box.

He rolled his eyes at me. “I recall explaining that I’m not leaving.”

“Send one of your other guards. Jesh has already proven himself skilled at extricating information from me; might as well give him another shot at learning whatever it is you want to know.”

Namir sat down on the other side of the food box, and I tucked my legs up beside me, so his thighs wouldn’t brush my feet. “He wasn’t trying to extricate information.”

I scowled at the king. “I thought he was trying to be my friend. Won’t make that mistake again.”

“Hewastrying to be your friend.” Namir grabbed a bag of some type of dried fruit I didn’t have a name for. I hadn’t known what it was, so I hadn’t tried it.

“You haven’t touched the elmbins,” he remarked, pulling a dried slice from the bag.

“I’ve never seen those before.” I shrugged, still snacking on the dried bloodberries.

“Here.” He broke off a piece on the end of the long slice, tossing it in his mouth before handing it to me.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing; showing me it was safe to eat by having some himself before handing it over.

I reluctantly took it from him. “Is it sour?”

“A bit. Do you like sour food?”

“No. I’m not used to eating anything with much flavor. Just gruel, and more recently, stew.”

His expression darkened. “Where did they keep you?”