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“I can ask one last thing of you,” he said. “One last sacrifice for me.”
He took a step toward her. She could see that his hands were shaking slightly. A moment later he was kneeling on the rug in front of her, his head tipped back, his eyes fixed on her face. She realized what he was about to do and lifted her hands to protest, but it was already too late. “Daisy,” he said. “Will you marry me?”
Perhaps life was not like books. Perhaps life was never going to be like that.
He did smile at her whenever he looked at her—that lovely smile that seemed to say she was a miracle or a revelation. But it didn’t help; James had a good heart, that was all. He didn’t love her, and that would not change.
To her immense shock, Alastair had been a great support through the past few days. He’d brought her tea, told her jokes, played chess with her, and generally kept her mind off things.
First I could not break things off with Charles because of my mother. Then, the moment I was free of her, you became engaged to Cordelia.” “Do not say her name,” James said,
Get her James!!
In Magnus’s life there had been a hundred Matthew Fairchilds: young men and women as self-destructive as they were beautiful, who despite all the gifts that had been given to them, seemed to wish for no more than to burn down their own lives.
“Being married,” James said fiercely. “I know you gave up a great deal for me, and I never want you to regret it. We will live together as the best of friends. I will help you train for your parabatai ceremony. I will defend and support you, always. You need never be lonely. I will always be there.” His lips brushed her cheek.
“Remember how well we did in the Whispering Room,” James whispered, and she shivered at the feeling of his warm breath against her skin. “We fooled them all.” We fooled them.
AHHHHH
