“Please, Rune.” Harrick looks almost sick, with me or himself, I’m not sure. “Gods, please. Just—just get in the bed.”

I shift on my feet, debating for a long second, before forcing myself to nod. I can’t imagine what will happen if a guard enters to find Harrick on the floor and me in his bed, but the desperation in Harrick’s voice has me moving anyway. I slip out of my shoes and ease onto the bed. It’s ridiculously comfortable, a level of softness I didn’t know existed.

“Wow,” I whisper. I’m terrified my clothes are dirty, that I’m ruining the luxurious bedding. I don’t let myself panic. I force the thoughts away and tuck myself beneath the covers. Once I’m settled, I finally allow myself to look at Harrick.

He smiles, but it doesn’t look like the tender one he’s shown me so many times. It looks pained, forced in a way that makes me feel responsible.

He takes a pillow from the empty side of my bed and lowers to the floor. With a flick of his hand, the light vanishes from the room. We’re instantly submerged in darkness, with only the moon’s natural light coming through the window. Though I can’t see Harrick, I can hear his steady, even breaths.

Somehow, I’m sure he’s still awake, even an hour later.

“Harrick?” I whisper. My voice sounds too loud, and I’m not sure why I’ve called to him at all.

“Yes, Rune?” he asks. Something about his voice calms me and makes me feel an inexplicable flicker of bravery.

“Would you like to look at my eyes?”

EIGHTEEN

RUNE

The light comes back on as Harrick gets to his feet. I sit up, still wearing my mask. I’d normally take it off to sleep, but I’m too anxious tonight, here in this unfamiliar place. Through the haze of my veil, I watch Harrick stand against the bed, blush darkening his face.

“I would,” he says. He shifts on his feet, looking painfully uncomfortable. “If you’re offering.”

“I am,” I say. I crawl from beneath the covers, sitting cross-legged over the quilted fabric. I try to keep myself from trembling as he sits across from me, but I can’t help it. If Harrick notices, he doesn’t comment. He sits in the spot across from me, keeping too much distance between us. His attention skims over me, hands half-raised toward me.

“May I—” he asks, keeping his hands lifted but motionless between us.

“Yes,” I say. I scoot closer, breath hitching at the base of my throat.

Harrick cups my face. His touch is firm but gentle as his fingers glide across my cheeks to the back of my head. He is delicate as he unties the mask, pausing as it comes undone. His eyes lock on mine, and I don’t look away, even as my instinctsbeg me to. It isn’t until I nod that he lowers the mask, letting it fall between us.

There’s a heavy pause, so quiet I’m sure he can hear my thundering heart. I force steady breaths and count the colors in his irises. Violet, nightwater, indigo, near-black.

Harrick doesn’t say anything for a long time. A contented smile dances over his lips, as his eyes roam lazily over my features. He looks at me like he’d be happy to do this for hours. I’d let him, I realize, if he asked.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’ve been looking far too long, haven’t I? It’s probably scary for you.”

“I don’t mind,” I say. Then, because I want him to know, I add, “I—I trust you.”

“Do you?” he asks. There’s no malice in the question.

“More than almost anyone,” I admit. “Trust doesn’t…come naturally to me.”

“Nor should it,” he says with a sympathetic nod. His eyes are on mine again. “I want you to trust me though, Rune. I really do. I promise not to let you down.”

“Okay,” I say, as if it’s that easy. It occurs to me that I might be the less trustworthy of the two of us.I’mthe one planning to dethronehim.

Harrick sighs.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he says, as though to himself. His face suddenly turns pink, and he blinks at me in shock. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

My body feels like it’s malfunctioning. This day has been impossible from the moment I was retrieved from my quarters to right now. I’ve never felt anything near beautiful, but Harrick is certainly staring at me like I am.

“You think I’m beautiful?” I ask, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.

“Of course you are,” he says. He says it like it’s the only possible answer. Blush rises through his entire face, touching the very tips of his ears. “But I wasn’t…I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”