place where, I don’t know, my mind was quiet, and I could just be. I didn’t think or worry…about anything. I found it so very peaceful.”
“But not anymore?”
“No,” I whispered. “Not anymore. It’s strange how no one speaks of Rylan or Malessa. It’s almost as if they never existed.”
“Sometimes remembering those who died means facing your own mortality,” he said.
“Do you think the Ascended are uncomfortable with the idea of death?”
“Even them,” he answered. “They may be godlike, but they can be killed. They can die.”
Neither of us spoke for several minutes as servants and others passed behind us. Several Ladies in Wait had stopped and pretended to take in the view of the garden while talking about the Rite, but I knew they were lingering near where we stood not because of the stunning flowers and lush greenery or because it was so rare for me to be seen, but because of the beautiful man who stood beside me. He seemed unaware of them, and even though I kept my gaze forward, I could feel his stare every couple of moments. Eventually, one of the Mistresses came along, shooing the Ladies away, and we were left alone once more.
“Are you excited about attending the Rite?”
“I am curious,” I admitted. The Rite was only two days away.
“I’m curious to see you.”
My lips parted on a soft inhale. I didn’t dare look at him. If I did, I feared I’d do something incredibly stupid. Something that the first Maiden could’ve done that had made the Duchess feel that she was unworthy.
“You’ll be unveiled.”
“Yes.” I also wouldn’t be expected to wear the color white. It would almost be like going to the Red Pearl because I would be able to blend in, and no one would know who I was—what I was. “But I will be masked.”
“I prefer that version of you,” he said.
“The masked version of myself?” I asked, guessing that he was thinking of our time at the Red Pearl.
“Honest?” His voice sounded closer, and when I took another deep breath, the scent of leather and pine surrounded me. “I prefer the version of you that wears no mask or veil.”
I opened my mouth, but as was becoming commonplace where Hawke was concerned, I didn’t know what to say. It felt like I should discourage such statements, but those words wouldn’t come to the surface either, just as they hadn’t before.
So, I did the only thing I could think of. I changed the subject. “I remember you said your father was a farmer.” I cleared my throat. “Do you have any other siblings? Any Lords in Wait in the family? A sister? Or…” I rambled on. “There’s only Ian for me—I mean, I only have one brother. I’m excited to see him again. I miss him.”
Hawke was quiet for so long that I had to look to make sure he was still there and still breathing. He was. He stared down at me, his amber eyes cool. “I had a brother.”
“Had?” My senses stretched out, and I didn’t even have a chance to control them. I opened myself up, and I locked my legs to stop myself from taking a step back. I didn’t feel anything strange, but I felt Hawke’s anguish, the bitterly cold pain that pelted my skin. It was sharper. This was where his pain stemmed from.
He’d lost a brother.
I reacted without thought to what he would think or to the fact that we were not alone. It was an uncontrollable urge, as if the gift itself had a hold of me.
I touched just his hand with mine and squeezed it in hopes that it would be construed as a gesture of sympathy. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I thought of warm beaches and salty air. Those thoughts quickly changed to how I’d felt when Hawke had kissed me.
The taut lines of Hawke’s expression smoothed out as he stared out the window. He blinked, not once but twice.
Lifting my fingers from his, I clasped my hands together, hoping that he hadn’t realized that I’d done something. He stood there, though, as if he’d been struck immobile. I lifted my brows. “Are you okay?”
He blinked again. This time, he laughed softly. “Yes. It’s…I just had the strangest feeling.”
“Is that so?” I watched him closely.
Hawke nodded as he rubbed the palm of his hand over his chest. “I don’t even know how to explain it.”
Now I was starting to worry that I’d somehow done something other than relieve his