Page 73 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

“Lawrence knows my heart,” I say quietly. “I’ve told him countless times I will not marry him. So why can’t you hold me in the shadows? Why must we pretend I’m his even when we’re alone?” I look up. “I’m not his, Henrik. I’myours.”

The commander groans quietly as he slides his hands under my cloak and catches me by the waist. I draw in a startled breath as his warm palms press into my sides, enjoying the unexpected closeness.

“You tempt me,” he murmurs near my ear. The words are gritty and dark, full of the desperation I feel in my heart.

“Good,” I breathe, letting my head fall back as his thumb strokes my side. “I shouldn’t suffer alone.”

Dropping his head, Henrik pushes aside my hood and whispers my name against the crook of my neck. “I’ve missed you.”

Only his words touch my skin. The moment is agony laced with bliss, unfairly forbidden.

“Kiss me,” I beg, grasping his shoulder. “Stop this torture.”

“I can’t.” He moves to my throat, never letting his lips touch me, though his breath is a caress all on its own.

A shiver passes over my skin, impossible to hide.

He murmurs, “Are you cold?”

“Frustrated.”

He barks out a startled laugh, and I smile even though I know I’ve ruined the moment.

Slowly releasing me, Henrik crosses his arms as if to prevent himself from reaching for me again. “Good—I shouldn’t suffer alone either.”

I bring my hand to my face, so ridiculously irritated with the situation we’ve found ourselves in.

“How long do you have?” he asks. “Do you want to walk into the city with me? I’m afraid if we linger here, I’ll do something I’ll regret.”

“Really?” I ask, intrigued. “In that case, I’d rather linger.”

Henrik laughs quietly, sounding a bit like he wants to murder Lawrence, and then takes my hand and leads me away from the fountain.

Happy even for this tiny bit of contact, I twine my fingers through his. “How did you escape Camellia?”

“She gave me a message to deliver.”

“Now she’s decided you’re a courier?” I scoff. “I suppose it’s inevitable, really. Everyone who serves her finds themselves delivering illicit messages at some point.”

Henrik looks over, and his eyes travel to my hair. He smiles to himself and tugs the hood over my head, hiding my face from anyone who might spot us. “I see you left your circlet behind.”

I’m not surprised he noticed. Earlier, I found him frowning at it, its presence likely reminding him we cannot be.

“It’s hard to play shadow rogue with it shining in the moonlight,” I say lightly, enjoying the simple pleasure of walking with him.

Just us, together.

“Shadow rogue?” he asks with a quiet laugh. “Is that what you are now?”

“I must be. I’m pretending to be a princess when I’m no more than a lady-in-waiting. Smiling for the people, lying with each benevolent nod.” I tug back my cloak and motion to my hunting outfit. “Besides, don’t I look the part?”

My dark brown trousers are fitted, and the matching deep blue tunic is cut like a short dress. It’s belted at the waist and free of fussy adornments. The dark ensemble is as close to a spying outfit as I own.

“I see you made good on your promise to wear trousers. I like this better than the outfit you bought in Denmel.”

“Liar,” I say lightly. “You know you liked it.”

He laughs as we pause outside a rusted gate that few know exists. Retrieving his key, Henrik works the lock and then holds the gate so I may pass through. “Maybe you’re right, he says, “but I didn’t like everyoneelseliking it.”

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