Page 37 of The Twisted Throne

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” Ahnna turned his hand into the light, holding the wound closed as she carefully began to stitch. His palms were callused from soldiering, but his nails were trimmed and clean, the two things feeling at odds with each other. They well represented the dichotomy that was James, the exterior he presented not quite concealing the man she suspected lurked beneath. “They weren’t cruel by any stretch of the imagination, and I was given every privilege. It’s just…” Ahnna sighed. “She did her duty because she had to, not because she wanted to.”

“A ruler needs an heir.” His breath was warm against her cheek as she worked. “It’s the way of it.”

“I know.” She knotted the last stitch, cutting the thread with her knife. “But knowing your mother bore you because she had to is a burden I wouldn’t wish upon any child. All children deserve to be wanted, and I’ll never—” Ahnna broke off, shaking her head. “Whiskey makes me say foolish things.”

“It’s not foolish,” he murmured, and Ahnna lifted her face to meet his gaze, the lamplight illuminating his amber eyes. Making them look like they burned from within. “You’re not like I expected you to be, Ahnna Kertell.”

“Much less ladylike, I assume.” She broke their shared gaze, then unknotted the cravat tied at his throat, slowly pulling loose the fabric, abruptly aware of the distance between them.

Or the lack thereof.

“No, I expected that,” he answered as she fastened the fabricaround his hand, knotting it. “Expected you to be willful and obstinate. Violent and wild. What I did not expect was compassion.”

There was something in his voice that made her chest clench, and Ahnna said, “You don’t seem happy with the discovery.”

James lifted his bandaged hand, catching hold of her cheek and lifting her face so that she was looking at him. “I’m not,” he said, and she leaned closer so as not to miss any of his words. “Because it makes everything so much harder.”

And then he lowered his face and kissed her.

Ahnna should have been shocked. Horrified at the transgression. But she wasn’t.

Something in her, deep and primal, had felt this coming. The culmination of the tension that had sung between them from the moment she’d knocked him off the side of the ship. And that part had Ahnna wrapping her arms around James’s neck, not resisting as he pulled her onto his lap.

His bandaged hand pressed against the small of her back, tongue in her mouth, the taste of him making her ache for so much more. For everything.

And then he jerked away.

“Shit!” He rose, lifting her as he did, only to set her down on her feet with such force that Ahnna stumbled backward. “Fucking hell!”

She pressed her fingers to her lips, still feeling the sensation of his kiss, watching as he paced up and down the small clearing at the center of the maze. James had kissed her. James, who only ever made proper choices, had kissed her. And God help her, but that kiss had burned into her soul in a way she hadn’t dreamed possible.

Then reality reared its head.

Ahnna twisted to look toward the distant manor, searching for any lights. Any sign that anyone had been watching.

That they’d been seen.

Was that a curtain moving? Or a trick of shadows?

“This was a mistake.”

Ahnna pivoted back around to find James no longer pacing, his eyes fixed on her. “I know,” she said. “I—”

“Why are you here, Ahnna?” he interrupted. “Do not lie and say that any part of life in Harendell appeals to you. You can’t follow the rules for one night, and they will soon be forced upon you like manacles, but you mean to tell me you are ready for a lifetime of this? Go home. Go back to Ithicana, where you belong. Because not only are you not wanted in Harendell, but this kingdom is going to eat you alive if you stay.”

Hurt flooded her chest, only for anger to rise in her heart’s defense. “I am here because my mother gave her word. Because I gave my word. And your father had every opportunity to negotiate for something other than me, and he chose not to. So perhaps ask yourself whether this is a matter of me not being wanted, or of you wanting something well beyond your reach.”

Shoving past him, Ahnna wove through the maze. Only some vestige of self-preservation stopped her at the edge of it to allow a yawning guard to walk past. When he was gone, she moved between the shadows of the statues, then scaled the trellis and climbed into the open window of her room.

Latching the pane shut, she closed the drapes and donned the nightgown, carefully replacing her clothing in the wardrobe. Climbing into bed, Ahnna pulled the blankets up to her chin. Only then did she lose control of the floodgates holding her panic in check.

What have you done?her conscience screamed.You fucking fool!

Ahnna shoved her fist into her mouth and tried to silence her gasping breaths, the sobs that kept threatening to tear loose.

She’d come here to save Ithicana, and in one moment of lust, she’d jeopardized everything. All it would take was one word of her transgression from James to his father, and she’d be sent home in disgrace. In her mind’s eye, Ahnna saw herself walking onto the pier at Northwatch, forced to admit that every bit of suffering that would come during storm season would be her fault. Because she’d kissed the wrong prince. Wanted the wrong prince.

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