She stepped into the room. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
When he only smiled in response, she added, “I’m surprised you’d trust me with a way to escape the castle, not to mention wherever the other corridors go.”
His eyes were on her, unnaturally green in the moonlight as she trailed her finger over the edge of his desk, lingering across the space from him.
“You know the risk,” he said. “I cannot lock you away forever.”
Something uncomfortable rose in her, a reminder that the king had tried just that with the women he had known. It had not worked. The head of the Trust had come for them.
It hadn’t stopped Warrick from trying to cart her out of the kingdom.
She let her gaze meet his. Nim had not admitted to the man that she knew his secrets, though she wasn’t fool enough to assume she knew them all. Calum was his brother, his mother was head of the Trust, and his father was king. Warrick was heir of Inara. Nim was destined to decide his fate.
And yet, Warrick had chosen to tie his life to hers. She had chosen him despite the risks of his position in the kingdom and his relationship to the Trust. They were to be married, bound, just as soon as she agreed to act against a king’s wishes.
The ring felt warm on her finger, small and thin as it was, a constant reminder of her mother, the others, and what they had all sacrificed to save the kingdom from the Trust. They had sewn all of their hopes in a bargain, all of their faith in her.
“How are you to be my husband with so many secrets between us?”
Her voice was quiet, but Warrick rose slowly, sure as he closed the distance. He stopped before her, his words a vow. “I told you, my lady, I’m bare to you. I will not lie to you.”
“But I could lie to you.” She stared up at him, her fingers itching to touch his chest. “There is nothing to stop me.”
A corner of his lips twitched, and he reached forward to take hold of her waist, his skin warm through the thin material of her shift. He leaned down, pressed a kiss softly to her cheek, and whispered, “There is no reason to lie to me. Nothing you might say could break my vow.”
His vow to protect her. His vow to make her his partner—his equal, he’d said. No matter how much his words meant or how much she wanted it, the threats still hung over her. She had to find a way to protect herself, to protect them both. “I want to know about magic.”
A hmm rumbled in this throat. “I suspect you do. It seems you’ve managed quite a bit on your own, but even though you were clever enough to bind Calum, I’d rather you know whatever you need should any further complications arise.” His gaze traveled over her. His intimation said that she should really not have come to his rooms wearing nothing more than a shift if she expected him to discuss the details of her new post.
It said he was toying with the idea of sending her more specific imaginings. Heat swam through her, but his gaze caught near the neck of her shift, where the exposed skin showed the edge of a jagged scar, wrought by magic, not so unlike one of his own. It still stung and pulsed, as it always would, but she could at least be grateful the magic threaded through it was Warrick’s—not Calum’s, not the queen’s.
“My new post?”
“Yes.” His eyes came back to hers. “I’ve decided your talents will be quite useful in the plight to stave off the Trust.”
“My talents,” she echoed.
She felt the humor from him, swelling through intimations that were becoming more familiar, easier to read. She wasn’t certain whether that was due to becoming more accustomed to them or if Warrick was allowing her to sense more from him.
“We can discuss it in detail tomorrow, but I’d like you to assist in inspecting the seized correspondence and reports on movements that have been submitted by the king’s guard. Your familiarity with how the Trust operates will be an asset to the king.”
She ran a tooth over the edge of her lip, wondering if she should tell him she’d been put on notice. “You hope to win his approval of me.”
“No, love. I hope what you’ve been through can help put an end to this for us all.”
“Warrick,” she whispered after a long moment stretched in the silence between them, “what happens if I can’t? What if everything goes wrong?” What if I’m not strong enough, clever enough to choose correctly? What if I fail in fighting the fate my father bargained for me?
“They will rise from the undercity, spreading through the kingdom to gather sacrifice from the citizens of Inara, taking all they can in the name of magic. They will spend it like water, an endless well of energy at their disposal. Inara will fall. The world we know will be no more.” He ran a thumb over her cheek. “You and I will be punished worst of all.”
The seneschal had vowed not to lie to her. Sometimes, Nim thought maybe it would be easier if he could. Her voice was quiet and rough. “That’s what I thought.”
“You should go back to your room, my lady, unless you’ve made your decision about the ceremony.”
That was truthful as well—she could tell that he did think she should go, but only because he was having trouble preventing himself from crossing a line with her standing in his private study.
Her voice remained low, only a breath of space between them as one of his hands rested over her hip and the other toyed with a loose lock of her dark hair. “You can’t give me a secret passageway to your rooms and expect me not to use it.”
His smile said he could and had, and Nim had the distinct impression that he would use any weapon in his arsenal to get her to decide quickly. She could not decide quickly because it had been decided for her.
“You’re right,” she said, rising onto her toes to reach him. “I should definitely go.” She brushed her lips over his in a long, lingering kiss that made her regret that she hadn’t agreed, no matter what Stewart had warned, then drew back to say in a teasing tone, “I have work in the morning.”
Warrick watched her as she turned and strode to the passageway, and as she glanced over her shoulder before stepping out, she knew for certain that his concern for her was separate from his desire to be her husband. She could feel that he wanted to keep her near him, to keep her safe, but not just for the protection the legal bonds afforded. Warrick wanted her at his side.
Of course he was tired of pushing away everything he came to care for, but she could sense that he was tired, too, of fighting his attachment to her. She wasn’t certain it would have mattered—Nim had already come to realize that she couldn’t let him go any more than she could Allister or Margery, but it was something else altogether to feel that surety from him and to know that she could trust him above all else. Her decision was made when it came to Warrick, as it had been the night she’d asked him if she could stay, but the word of the king was law. Once she agreed to a union against Stewart’s wishes, she would be breaking that law in the very castle he ruled.
What a fool she would have to be, she mused, if she chose to turn two kingdoms against herself.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Nim was awoken by the bright light of a too-early sun as Maris yanked the curtains back on her bed. “Good morning, my lady,” she offered with a cheerful smile.