Page 33

Once we’re settled on my horse and making our way through the city, I ask, “Are you all right?”

Clover makes a noise that’s neither a yes nor a no. It’s simply an acknowledgment that she’s still alive.

“Hold on to me so you don’t fall,” I say gruffly.

Slowly, she wraps her arms around my middle and groans another soft noise—but this one makes me clench my eyes shut as I try to direct my thoughts to a less forbidden place.

But then she presses her cheek to my back, and my thoughts escape their restraints, roaming freely where they will.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Clover murmurs as she nudges herself closer, locking her hands at my stomach.

We ride down the street, guided by the lamplight. It’s late, and the city is nearly empty.

“Misunderstand what?” I ask.

“Why I’m clinging to you like a monauth.”

“If you were a monauth…wouldn’t you have my neck?”

She laughs softly. “Don’t tempt me. I hurt too much to exercise any sort of restraint.”

My heart rate increases, and I wonder if she’ll notice how uneven my breathing is. After a long moment, I ask, “You must use restraint around me?”

“Mmm,” she answers as if it’s a simple fact. “But don’t pretend you don’t know that.”

“Do I?”

“You’re not that obtuse, soldier. You’re well aware that half the females of our court are in love with you.”

I smile and drop my voice to tease her. “Only half?”

She makes a scoffing noise. “And here I thought you were humble.”

Because it’s late, I’m worried, and I’m so ridiculously happy to have her to myself—I say something I shouldn’t.

“What about you, Clover?” I ask, pretending I’m still joking. “Are you in love with me?”

She laughs as if the question is absurd, and I frown, unsure what to make of her response.

“I just like to look at you,” she finally says, though her tone betrays she’s not being entirely truthful.

There’s genuine affection growing between us, tethering us together whether we like it or not. If I were free—if an entire kingdom wasn’t holding me back…

But I learned long ago that wishing for circumstances to be different will drive you mad. All you can do is navigate the life you’re given as well as you are able.

Silence settles around us, and I worry Clover has fallen asleep.

Then suddenly, she says, “Maybe I do a little.”

The confession shocks me so badly I’m surprised I don’t spook the horse.

“You do what?” I demand.

She sighs against my back. “Do you remember when we talked about love the morning we left Denmel?”

I manage to nod.

“What if I was right, and you were wrong, and love is more than just a spoken promise you make? More than just attraction, more than just desire?”