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Slowly, I turn back. “Is shethatpetty?”

“Serving the princess is a test in patience,” he says wryly, knowing I’m well aware. “She’s hot-tempered and jealous, and I don’t trust her not to murder you or Brielle on a whim, so I am humoring her as best as I am able.”

“Then why did you risk sending me the note?”

He looks startled. “Note?”

“The message telling me to meet you,” I say, growing nervous. “The one you slipped under my door?”

Tensing, Henrik leans forward. “I didn’t leave you a note.”

Another cool breeze blows through the grass, making the nearby lake reeds sing. I shiver, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “Then who did?”

Henrik shakes his head, obviously not liking the situation any more than I do.

“What are you doing out here then?” I demand.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came out for some fresh air.”

“Have you seen anyone else?”

“No.” He studies me long and hard, looking like he wants to say something. Then he glances at the dead ginden and seems to change his mind. “You best return to your room. It’s not safe out here.”

I, too, look at the creature, cursing it for killing what might have been a romantic interlude.

But, giant scaled rodent aside, it’s hard to think of romance when an unknown someone lured me from my room.

They could be watching us right now.

The thought makes me uneasy, and I agree. “Barret is waiting for me in front of the bathhouse. Lawrence has assigned him as my guard.”

Henrik gives me a sharp look. “How did you escape him?”

“I crawled through a back window.”

“Why would you do that?”

Feeling bold despite the circumstances, I say, “I would do nearly anything for a chance to see you.”

The commander’s expression softens, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s going to reach for me.

But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

“If I wanted to meet with you, I wouldn’t leave a note.” Henrik’s eyes capture mine. “I’d wait until I could find you alone.”

My breathing hitches. “Then you’d wait a very long time because I’m never alone.”

“You’re alone now,” he points out, his tone darkening.

But are we?

I shiver, feeling like we’re out here with targets on our backs.

“I’ll walk you back,” Henrik says, preparing to rise.

“What if we’re spotted?”

“We’ll stay low until we reach the trees.” He then yanks his sword from the ginden, cleans the blade on the unprotected hide of its belly, and crawls through the grass.