hawk & sable

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT,

HAWK & SABLE | TWENTY-EIGHT

ELSEWHERE, ANOTHER GIRL of stars and blades braced herself in a bed of silken sheets. It was futile, avoiding him. She might as well get this over with quickly. She had played out this scenario in her head already. With any luck, it would play out seamlessly.

That was one of the reasons. He already had enough liars and manipulators in his life. He did not require another. There was nothing good she could offer him.

She laid in bed, quiet. She had blown out her candles, slowing her breathing to mimic sleep. It would not dissuade him, probably, but she'd done the little she could. Perhaps he would see her in bed, seemingly asleep, be considerate and leave. If she fooled him, anyways, which was unlikely.

Every person had their infatuations. Sometimes, they were wholly improper. This was one of them.

But for a moment, she let herself dream. Imagined herself in the role that was so tempting yet impossible. I am not worthy. He is not for me.

All her preparation and praying did not work, of course. She did not hear him, not precisely. She just knew. She didn't move, not an inch, not even to open her shut eyes as he entered her bedchamber.

There were a few moments of quiet. Then she felt his quiet breath across her eyelids, fighting the urge to blink. He chuckled. "I know you're awake."

She mumbled, still not opening her eyes, "I am hoping rather fervently that you would go away."

"No chance of that, I'm afraid." He straightened. "I'm staying."

"Very unfortunate."

A few beats passed. When he opened his mouth, he sounded amused. "You really are just going to stay like that the entire time, huh?"

"It is wholly improper, you know, to barge into a lady's bedchamber without politely asking."

"I did ask."

"You said it as a statement, not a question, Lord Archsham. And you'd note that I did not respond with a yes."

"You don't even know my intentions."

"Whatever they are," she told him, "I'm sure I do not agree with them. Go away. I barely slept a wink last night."

"Too busy thinking about me?"

It took all her effort not to open her eyes and glare at him. "Too busy thinking about the case."

"Well," he drawled, "the traitor is in custody now. He's under the Iron Wolves' watch, not as if he's about to escape any time soon. You can think about me tonight."

"Good. Go away."

"Ciri, Ciri, you truly did not think it would be so easy, did you? Open your eyes. You're very pretty when you sleep— ah, pretend to sleep anyways— did you know that?"

"No, as I am unable to see myself when I am asleep. Either way it does not matter. Please go away." Her words came out as a grumble. She sounded like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but she didn't exactly care. If that made him go away quicker, she'd act the bratty child.

"Hmm, no." He was teasing her. She balled her fists, and he shrunk back. "Do not punch me."

"Trust me," she muttered. "It's very tempting right now."

"I'll dodge."

"Are you fast enough, though?" No. She was teasing back. That was a bad idea. She stiffened again.