He remembered Cordelia dancing, all fire. He remembered the moments after that, in the Whispering Room. He could say to her that she hardly needed any teaching from him; she knew how to kiss. But his mind was consumed with the thought of this man, some man she would marry in future, who would kiss her and expect things from her— James hated him already. He felt dizzy with it—with rage toward someone he did not know, and with how near she was to him. “Get on top of me,” he said, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears. It was her turn to look surprised. “What—?” “I am tied to the bed,” he
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