Page 23 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

“No, no, Diadre. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying the risk isn’t real. I’m saying… even while the threat is not present, you remain afraid.”

“Because the threat remains present,” I said tightly. Then I pointed at the tent wall, indicating the camp beyond. “There is an entire horde of Nephilim out there who would take me against my will.”

“Have I not protected you?”

I blinked and sat back in my seat as well. “Yes, but—”

“No buts, Diadre. Your fear doesn’t rest on the environment—you were here before and walked around as if they were insects under your shoe. Your fear is rooted in your doubt in yourself. Before, you believed you could deal with it. Now you do not.”

“What’s your point?”

“Is my statement true?”

“I suppose, but—”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say what you fear,” he said simply. Tenderly. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“What does it matter—”

“Say it, Diadre.”

“Why?!”

“Because the first step back to finding your courage is admitting that you have a flaw or a weakness. Do it. Say it.”

“I don’t see how—”

His fist thudded on the table and the plates and cutlery banged. I startled and shoved out of my chair so fast it fell over backwards and I almost tripped on it.

“I can’t… You’re not—” I panted, shaking. I couldn’t believe that in the face of this he’d decided I should be frightened further?

“Diadre, look at me.”

“I can’t do what you’re saying. I didn’t lose my nerve to fight. I lost the fight itself! If it weren’t for you—”

“Precisely my point,” he said. But instead of smug, the words were sad? “Now… tell me what you fear.”

“But—”

“Diadre, please. Please… humor me… say the words out loud.”

I stood there, trembling, gaping at him—his gaze pleading back. The light from the lanterns casting deep shadows in his cheeks and around his eyes and making him look even stronger. Even larger. He was still sitting at that damn table.

I swallowed hard. “I am…”

He went still, stopped breathing.

I wanted to slap myself. Why was it so hard to say? It was only words! “I am afraid of these Nephilim men.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that they’ll rape me. Afraid I might not anticipate how they can reach me. Afraid I’ll lose myself to them. I’d rather die than be violated that way.”

He slumped and nodded, leaning forward, gripping the table. “Diadre, are you afraid of me?”

I blinked and opened my mouth—but had to stop and think. And my conclusion drew tears to my eyes. “I… no.” I breathed. “No, Jann. I’m not afraid of you.”

He smiled like I’d pleased him.

“Good. Because you have no need to be. When I said I learned what is worth fighting for, I also learned who is worth fighting for. There are men in my ranks who could walk into the abyss and I would merely wave them goodbye. When I fight for others, it is by the same measure—what is worth dying for.”

Those words were like a spear through my ribs. “Why?”

“Because the question is the same, is this person valuable enough to risk—”

“No, no, I understand the principle,” I said breathlessly. “I meant… why would you fight for me?”

Jann went very still, his eyes locked on mine. Neither of us moved. I could feel the words building in him.

He was about to say something life-changing. I knew it like I knew my own reflection in a mirror. He opened his mouth and I leaned forward to catch it—but suddenly his eyes shuttered and he turned away, clearing his throat.

“You are my Queen’s dearest friend, my King’s ally in a people who do not know him, and you have proven your capability—plus, you saved my life once already. It was an easy decision,” he said darkly. But he was no longer looking at me.

And even though those words were exactly the reason I’d given my whole life to being a soldier and earning my stripes, the very thing I wanted every man to see in me, for some reason they felt…

inadequate. I slumped and turned away to pick up the chair and set it back on its feet to give me something to do.

I made a great show of resettling myself and turning back to my food, picking up the cutlery and pretending I would eat. But I just stared at that plate.

Was this just about that fucking life debt? I felt confused and hurt—and even more confused because I didn’t know why I was hurt. He hadn’t done anything but save me and attempt to help.

For once, I stayed silent. I didn’t speak to him. Didn’t bark. Didn’t challenge or tease. I didn’t want to. Regardless of his motives, Jann had saved me from certain disaster, and protected me since.

And that made me want to be closer to him.

And that thought sent my mind shrieking into the abyss. I pushed it away and made myself eat, but didn’t taste a bite.

After all that intensity and purpose, Jann now wouldn’t even look at me. And for some reason that made me feel ashamed.

We finished the meal in awkward silence. I averted my eyes, so didn’t know if he was looking at me again. But I found I wished he had.

When it was time for bed, he stripped down to his underthings, then slipped into bed and blew out the lantern, which gave me the darkness to undress in. I was grateful, but still unsettled.

When I lay down on the other side of his bed, I was stiff as a plank and holding the furs to my chin.

The awkwardness grew worse when it was apparent that he didn’t simply roll over and go to sleep as he had on the other nights.

He hadn’t had much more sleep than me the night before.

He was tired, too. I knew it. But he lay there, eyes on the ceiling.

Probably thinking about how he’d been saddled with this debt, this deadweight.

So much for proving myself to the Nephilim. So much for carving a path for women behind me. God, I was a failure on every level.

And my skin felt too tight.

“I’m sorry,” I forced myself to breathe into the dark.

He twitched. “What?”

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. I know… I know I haven’t been easy on you. And you’re right, you have taken care of me. And all it’s gotten you is this… responsibility. Forced to share your space with me. But… you were right to make me say it. I am afraid. I don’t want to be alone and—”

“Diadre… I’d never expect you to be alone. Why the hell are you apologizing?”

I took a deep breath. “Because I know how painful it is to babysit another adult. I don’t know if it helps, but I hate it too. So, I understand why you—”

He sighed heavily and I cut off. I’d already humbled myself. Did I really have to brace for him to list to me all the reasons he hated this?

“No, Diadre… You’re wrong.”

I frowned into the dark. “Wrong about what?”

He rolled onto his side and pushed up onto one elbow. “I don’t hate having you here.” He huffed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t hate it at all.”