“Gideon,” she breathed, pulling the cord on her dressing gown tighter around her waist.

“Did I wake you?” He staggered forward and then back.

“Did you wake me? Yes, you woke me,” she hissed. “It’s the early hours of the morning. Are you drunk?”

Gideon nodded with a hiccup as he sauntered into her room, uninvited.

Emara stood with her mouth open, bewildered at the sight of him. He wasn’t just drunk, he was intoxicated. She had never witnessed Gideon being remotely close to intoxication.

“You’re welcome to come in.” Her nose wrinkled and the sarcasm dripped from her lips.

“Thank you,” he said, oblivious of her tone, as he leaned against the wall close to the bathing chamber door. His face was flushed with the amount of alcohol he had consumed, and his chocolate hair was wild atop his head, more untamed than usual. His dark tunic was tight around his chest and a few of the buttons were unfastened at the top, exposing his neck. He was unarmed. No weapons.

Strange.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she folded her arms around her.

“I wanted to see you,” he replied, his stunning eyes travelling the length of her face.

She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Couldn’t it have waited until a decent hour?”

He took a moment before his lips parted. “I fear I have waited too long already.”

And there it was…

“Oh Gods, Gideon.” She shook her head. “We are not having this conversation, not now.”

“If not now, when?” His face was flat with uncertainty, causing the darkness of the room to invade all the angles of his handsome face.

“Maybe when you are sober?” Her jaw hardened and set into place.

“Drunken hearts allow us the courage to speak our sober minds,” he replied as he stood up from the wall and swayed slightly. He moved forward, and as he reached for her, she placed up her hand for him to stop.

And he did.

With her hand against his chest, she swallowed. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Emara spoke up, looking at the ground, his boots, his laces—anything but those glittering green eyes.

“Please just look at me.” His voice was weak with desperation.

She did as he asked, her lips still set hard around her teeth.

He let out a small breath. “You won’t even look at me properly.”

“I am looking at you now, Gideon, or are you just too drunk to see out of your own eyes?”

He rocked back on one foot, his brows pulling down in a way that made his cheeks narrow and his eyes sharp with hurt. “You may be looking at me, but not in the way you used to.” Something in his voice broke, something she feared also broke in her heart.

He walked into her hand, allowing it to push against his chest, and she could feel the solid beat of his heart under her fingertips. She wanted so badly to hold him, but she couldn’t. Her heart wasn’t ready.

He finally spoke. “I am still the same person you felt something for before I took your stone. Nothing has changed.” His lips parted and her heartbeat picked up to the same speed as Gideon’s. “I did you wrong, I know that, but I am still the same person you thought I was before. Things don’t need to be different between us.” Optimism flared in his eyes, and she was regretful that she ever looked up in the first place. “We can work through this.”

“Gideon,” she breathed as he placed his forehead onto hers. The act stopped her from saying anything more.

“I did what I had to do because it is my duty to be loyal to my commander. I will always need to be loyal to him. You know that,” he whispered, and she could still smell the sweet alcohol on his breath.

“I understand that, Gideon—I do—but that doesn’t make what you did okay.” She pulled her hand from his.

“I know it doesn’t, but we can come back from this. I am still the same person.”