Page 16 of Crown of Roses
Maeve grabbed the frayed towel slung over the hook on the wall and gingerly dried herself clean. She needed to be focused. To be ready. To be prepared for anything.
“Maeve!” The door to the bathroom burst open and Casimir walked in.
She yelped and clutched the towel to her naked body.
“Shit.” He whipped away from her so quickly, he almost collided with the door. “I didn’t look, I swear.”
Yeah. Right. He’d most definitely gotten an eyeful. “You didn’t knock either.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just...I don’t know what I was thinking.” Casimir turned back toward her and a scowl marred his brow. “No, that’s a lie. I know exactly what I was thinking. I was so fucking worried—”
“Still naked.”
“Right. Shit.” He averted his gaze once more and held up his hand to the side of his face.
Maeve was by no means ashamed of her body, or too modest, but it did give her a kind of satisfaction watching him squirm.
“I had to make sure you were okay,” he muttered lamely.
She wrapped her towel around her and knotted it in the front. “Could’ve fooled me.” She moved past him toward her bed but he caught her by the arm.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His dark eyes were unreadable.
“It means, you were more than content to let me die.” Carefully, she pried his fingers from her forearm. “You were going to let her kill me, Casimir. All she had to do was reprimand you like a misbehaving pup, and you obeyed. You stood by and did nothing.”
He released her. “I had no choice, Maeve.”
“We all have a choice.” He stepped in her direction, and she held up one hand. “Stay where you are, and no peeking.”
Casimir closed his eyes, but his brows were furrowed. “You know my choices are not equal to yours.”
Maybe not, but at the very least he could’ve tried. Maybe begged for her life, or bartered with Carman, or simply just asked. He was the Captain of the Guard. He was her favorite soldier. Because he would die for her. Because his loyalty was to her above all else. Because he was bound to her.
She pulled on the leggings and slipped the blouse over her head. “I understand our choices may not ever be the same. Forgive me if I thought some part of you might not want to see me dead.”
“I would never wish death upon you.” His voice was strained, and when she glanced over at him, his eyes were focused on her. The way he watched her, the way his gaze harbored his emotions, she knew he meant it. She’d known him her entire life, trusted him with every fiber of her being, and yet when she was on the brink of death, he’d done nothing. He allowed it to happen, like she was of no value. No meaning.
“You know, if the roles had been reversed, I would’ve died trying to save you.” She snatched her corset off the bed and slid it around her waist. Frustration and something like sorrow caused her hands to tremble, and she couldn’t get the metal hooks into place. “I wouldn’t even have to think about it. I just would’ve done it. I would’ve done anything within my power to keep you alive. But you—”
He closed the distance between them in one stride. His capable hands captured the hooks of her corset and he expertly fastened them into place, hesitating only when he neared her breasts. His jaw clenched and when his knuckles lightly brushed across her rounded flesh, she sucked in a breath.
“Are you alive?” he asked. His hands fall away from her, but he didn’t step back.
“Yes.” Maeve jerked her head up and glared at him.
“Then you can thank me later.” Casimir flashed a smile. A real one, a rare one, and she caught sight of the dimple in his left cheek. Then he broke away from her and headed for the door. “We leave in an hour. Don’t take too long fixing your hair, Maeve. I only packed you a few pins in case you lose some on the way.”
Her entire body froze.
Casimir had packed her bag for her? And he cared enough to pack extra pins for her? “Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He opened her bedroom door and hazy light filtered in from the open hall. He glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Oh, and one more thing.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “What’s that?”
Casimir smirked. “I definitely peeked.”
Maeve’s mouth fell open, but the door was already closing behind him. She laced up her boots, tucked her dagger into the sheath on her thigh, and slung her pack over her shoulder. She snatched her belt of throwing stars from the bed and buckled it around her waist, then walked out of her room for what she could only assume would be the last time. There was no looking back, no turning back. The walk to the castle gates was less eventful than she expected. She passed plenty of guards, and none of them even spared her a glance. Apparently, no one cared if she was the heir of Kells. It meant she wouldn’t have her movements tracked, or be watched every hour of the day. She rounded the corner and passed the throne room, kept her spine in place when she heard her mother’s voice echoing within the grand walls.
