But as Pace pulls into the palace driveway, the gate sliding open, I feel him watching me. Always watching. It’s not his gaze that unnerves me. It’s the look in his eye. It never changes. Not when I’m in a ballgown, or when he has me on my knees, or when I’m walking across campus. Not when I look like this—broken down. Pace looks at me the same no matter the circumstances. Like I belong to him.
