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Seeing it, the fight went out of him.

Fuck.That was too far.

“Rune …” He ran his hands roughly through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

Did he have to be so brutally honest? She seemed so small, suddenly. He wanted to close the space between them but was afraid she might recoil.

“I agree with you: the revolution was supposed to make things better, for all of us, but there’s a long way to go.”

She stayed silent, watching him as the wind whipped through her hair.

I’ve ruined it,he thought.She’s going to turn around, go back, and never speak to me again.

But instead of trying to salvage this—his last fraying thread to his only lead on the Crimson Moth—he gave her that out. He felt sick with himself for insulting her, and the right thing to do was suggest they return to the house.

Before he could, she stepped toward him, stopping only inches away.

“If I thought you were beneath me …” Her eyes were hard as pewter, searching his. “… why would I be out on a walk with you?”

He searched hers back.

Why indeed?

Lifting his hands, he gathered the wild tangle of hair blowing across her face. It surprised him when she didn’t flinch away, when she let him scrape it back instead. She seemed to soften as he held it, allowing him to see her clearly.

He shouldn’t have liked it so much—the feel of her hair against his palms, the way she relaxed beneath his fingers.

“Beautiful heiresses might court common soldiers,” he said. “But they don’t marry them.”

Her mouth quirked a little. “Did you just call me beautiful, Gideon?”

“I’m stating the obvious. Don’t change the subject.”

She looked away.

“You know it’s true, Rune. People of your station don’t marry down.”

In Gideon’s experience, those born into wealth and privilege wanted more of it, not less. Like the first hit of a drug, the moment people tasted power, they needed more to quench the craving.

“I don’t know how to dance to your songs,” he said. “I don’t have the esteem of your friends. I don’t use seventeen pieces of silverware at dinner.” He let go of her hair, and it billowed out, catching in the wind once more. “I have no means of expanding your inheritance.”

He knew he was walking a fine line, reminding her of the reasons they made no sense. That this charade they were playingwas a weak one. But if the goal was to be vulnerable, to entice her to be vulnerable, too, he needed to speak the truth.

“People likeyouare impossible,” she said. “I don’t care about those things.”

He almost rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”

“Then why are we here? If I’m so shallow—all trappings and no substance—what are you doing with me? Why would someone likeyouwant someone likeme?”

Gideon opened his mouth to respond, only he didn’t know the answer.

He studied her, hair ablaze in the setting sun. Gray eyes like molten steel.

In his silence, Rune came to her own conclusions.

“Maybe you’re right.” She stepped around him, lantern in hand, and unlatched the white gate at the garden’s edge, stepping into the meadow beyond. “One of us thinks ourself too good for the other. But it’s not me.”

The gate swung closed behind her.