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“I came back to the road—alone—the next night. I kept to the forest for three days, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, to speak to you if I could.”
“Of all the things I pretend at,” he said, his thumb drawing small, gentle circles along my waist, “courting you has proven the easiest.”
“Hauth broke your wrist, Ravyn mangled his hand. Balance.”
“Just a small cut,” he murmured. “Nothing too deep. No need to scar these beautiful hands.”
“He’s not skeptical of your infection, your magic. When he looks at you, he feels he knows you—wants to help you. You make him remember why he’s done everything he’s done, and why he must continue on doing it.”
“I can’t tell you,” I said, more forceful than before. “You won’t want anything to do with me if I do.” Ravyn exhaled. “Then your estimation of me is lower than I imagined.”
“Can I kiss you?” My voice shook. “A bit late to ask, isn’t it?” “Not on your mouth, Elspeth.”
“Are you all right?” he asked, brushing my damp hair out of my face. “You were gone when I woke up.” I leaned into him. “I wanted to let you rest.” He kissed me, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck. “I don’t want rest, Elspeth,” he murmured into my lips. “I want you.”
“Are you still pretending?” I said, reveling in his gaze. Ravyn gave a surprised laugh and, in front of everyone, leaned in and kissed me. “I never was,” he whispered into my lips.
