Page 80 of A Reflection of Silver and Crimson

“I just want you to remember me.” Sadness grips me as I look back at him.

Jasce’s gaze fixes on me, his eyes holding a spark of confusion. “I would always remember you.”

No, you wouldn't.

I swallow, not able to speak.

“Tonight, at dinner, I will ask you for what I want,” he says, breaking the agony of my thoughts.

I push aside my melancholy and focus on preparing for dinner.

ChapterThirty-Two

This dinner isdifferent from the ones I usually attend with Jasce. It’s held in the Great Hall, and it’s attended by hundreds of people. There are nobles, warriors with an aura of valor, scholars radiating intellect, and then, of course, there’s me—sitting beside Jasce.

The room is massive, with huge wooden pillars dominating each corner and tapestries with their coat of arms covering the walls. An enormous candelabra hangs from the ceiling, casting an amber light across every inch of the room.

My attention shifts to the food placed on gold plates. There’s roasted hogshead adorned with rosemary and thyme, spiced olives beautifully arranged around a bowl of creamy goat cheese, wild mushrooms tossed upon vegetables. And potatoes mixed among herbs...all leading up to towering trays of pastries.

Everything looks so tempting and inviting that I forget entirely why I’m here. Instead, I focus on filling my plate with the food. Jasce watches me as I eat, his eyes belying his amusement.

“Why are you staring at me?” I take a quick sip of the mulled wine.

“I enjoy watching you take pleasure in eating.”

“That’s silly.”

I take a bite of the pastry. The flavor is sweet and smoky, with hints of cinnamon that linger on my tongue.

“Look at me.”

I turn at the sound of his voice. Then, he does something entirely unexpected. He leans down and kisses me, as if we’re alone, as if his father doesn’t sit nearby, as if hundreds of people don’t watch us.

His hands move along the sides of my face, caressing, before he pulls away with a half-smile on his lips.

“Why did you do that?” I ask, my voice breathless.

“I wanted to see if you taste like the pastry.” He runs his tongue across his bottom lip and smiles. “You do.”

Heat spreads over my cheeks as I duck my gaze away. I can find no words. Not when I am lost—tossed in the sea of his seduction.

He brings his hand to my thigh, his touch tender through my cotehardie. “I know what I want.”

“You do?”

Torchlight sparks in his eyes as he leans closer and lowers his voice to a whisper, a whisper meant only for me. “I want to show you the pleasure of my touch.”

“Here?” Unfortunately, I don’t manage the question without my voice raising an octave.

“Yes. Here.” He trails his hand down my thigh and back up.

“I said no to—”

“—I know what you said no to. You may leave your clothes on.”

“How generous of you.” I roll my eyes.

He grips my thigh through the fabric of my clothing, his touch strong enough to elicit a soft gasp from me. Satisfied at my response, his fingers resume their slow, pleasurable pace.

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