Page 43 of The Idol

I slowly nodded, even as my stomach twisted. “O-okay,” I whispered. “If this helps you feel the Light… then I won’t stop you.”

The relief that flickered across his face was quick, but unmistakable.

And when he raised his hand again—very carefully this time, as if giving me every chance to pull away—I forced my breath to stay steady.

I didn’t move.

His fingers brushed the side of my cheek, warm and soft and unbearably gentle. A tremor went through me. Not fear—not exactly. More like my body didn’t know what to do with something so foreign.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

It’s fine, I told myself.

It’s not wrong.

It’s for the Light.

It’s for him.

It’s not inappropriate.

It’s just… touch.

Touch that made my pulse race and my mind go blurry and my heart feel too big.

But I stayed still.

And Jace, sounding almost reverent, breathed, “Thank you, Elior.”

I wasn’t sure why that made my legs feel weak.

But it did.

Jace’s hand dropped back to his side, and he smiled at me.

“Um… we’ll just…”

“Not tell Father?”

My stomach hurt hearing those words. And although I hated keeping a secret from Father, I’d done it before. Like, sometimes I didn’t write down what people told me during confessionbecause I didn’t want Father to punish them. And I hadn’t told him about Jace touching my foot either. Or when I saw the younger girls slacking off on their chores.

“Yeah…” I breathed shakily.

“Right.” Jace’s smile widened, warm enough to soften the knot in my stomach. “Our little secret.”

I nodded, though the words made my chest feel tight. Secrets were dangerous things. But the way he said it made it feel less like hiding and more like… something shared. Something just between us.

We started walking again, our steps falling naturally into place beside each other. For a few seconds, I was too aware of everything—my cheek still buzzing faintly where he’d touched me, the morning air brushing against the warmth he left behind, the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.

Jace kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, like he was trying not to smile too big.

We continued down the path, past the garden beds where a few early risers were tending the soil. I kept my gaze lowered, but every so often I caught Jace looking around with a thoughtful frown, as if calculating or assessing something. It reminded me that he was always watching, always thinking.

But with me, he didn’t seem to be analyzing. He just seemed present.

“You still nervous about confession night?” he asked.

I hesitated. “A little. But I feel better about it now that you’ve confided in me.”