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Tarley was going to tell. He reached under the table, grasped her hand, and squeezed. Her eyes swung to his, confused. “It’s a long story,” he told Tomas.

“One you obviously haven’t shared,” Brinna said.

Tom made a harumphing noise. “Well, there’s not a lot of pomp and circumstance in this house, but we might have tried a bit harder.”

Nixus made a noise.

“Are you pouting?” Auri asked.

“I don’t pout,” he answered. “I brood.”

Jessamine giggled. “I’m sorry, Father, but as much as you’d like to think we would try, what you see is what you get, Ollie.”

Tarley pulled her hand from his, and he could tell she was angry with him, confused. He noticed the way her head turned as she spoke with her mother about the queen.

Suddenly, Lachlan needed to finish this meal, even as much as he was enjoying it. He needed to get Tarley alone, to explain. He would lay his heart out on the altar for her to either take or sacrifice, but it was time to face his fears.

So he sat, polite as he’d been groomed to be, and waited, anxious to face feelings and lay himself bare to the woman he loved, terrified to face repercussions that had the power to eviscerate him. But he knew it was time to stop pretending.

30

Tarley sat at dinner wide awake, wondering how she’d been wandering through Sevens asleep all this time. She couldn’t get her conversation with Lachlan on the way to the cottage out of her mind. He was right. She was afraid of all she was feeling. Afraid it was weakness rather than strength.

Except his honesty illuminated her own struggle. Her weakness wasn’t the fear, but her failure to face it. She was always running away. Worse yet, lying to herself that doing so was her being strong and capable, but instead it was just hiding and making herself smaller and invisible.

Maybe the queen had given her an opportunity to be strong, to sacrifice herself for the greater good. And Tarley was ready to sacrifice herself on the altar of Kaloma for all women, only last night, being with Lachlan hadn’t been a sacrifice at all. She hadn’t given herself away but rather staked claim to who she was, complete.

With Lachlan.

It was ludicrous. She was sitting with her family as images of being with Lachlan, the sensations, the pleasure accosted her, all because Lachlan was sitting next to her, his thigh pressed against hers. All because there was this energy arcing between them every time she looked at him and found his eyes following her. All because he’d shared what growing up in Jast was like, because of what he’d said to Mr. Rufus, because he’d admitted he was afraid of the woods, because he spoke to her like an equal. All because he was kind and gracious interacting with her family. All because she’d agreed to a marriage and the lines of what that truly meant were blurring.

“Did you know?” her father was asking because he’d just placed the name Berkman with Jast. She knew he’d figure it out. And now was as good a time as any to share the news.

She glanced at Lachlan; she wasn’t going to run anymore. “Actually,” she started.

But then Lachlan squeezed her hand under the table.

“It’s a long story,” he said, maintaining the ruse.

Her heart cramped with unease and confusion as her eyes swung to meet his. She pulled her hand from his, and his eyes begged her to understand, to trust him, which melted away just as quickly. “Our group was attacked like the queen,” he said, turning back to her father. “And I got separated from the royal party.”

Afraid that what was happening was beyond her control and her newly acknowledged feelings were about to be crushed, she sat, heart pounding, realizing Lachlan maybe hadn’t ever given her a reason not to trust him, but he had the capability to hurt her.

“Are they–” Brinna started, her face pale.

“I don’t know,” Lachlan admitted and shook his head. “I’ve sent word with the help of Rose to find out.”

“Have you heard any word?” Scarlett asked.

Lachlan looked down at his plate. “I haven’t.”

The conversation moved forward, eventually offering Tarley an opportunity to lean toward Lachlan. “What are you doing?”

He turned his head and whispered, “It’s just–” But he stopped.

Tarley leaned back to look closer at him.

He shook his head slightly and glanced at the table.