From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash #1) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,99

door, stopping long enough to say, “If you need me, knock.” She paused. “Princess.”

I groaned.

Hawke chuckled. “I really do like her.”

“I’m sure she’d love to hear that.”

“Would you love to hear that I really like you?” he asked.

My heart skipped a beat, but I ignored the stupid organ. “Would you be sad if I said no?”

“I’d be devastated.”

I snorted. “I’m sure.” We reached my door. “What did you need to talk about?”

He motioned to the room, and figuring what he had to say was something he didn’t want overheard, I went to open the door—

“I should enter first, Princess.” He easily side-stepped me.

“Why?” I frowned at his back. “Do you think someone could be waiting for me?”

“If the Dark One came for you once, he’ll come for you again.”

A chill danced down my spine as Hawke entered the room. Two oil lamps had been left burning by the door and bed, and wood had been added to the fireplace, casting the room in a soft, warm glow. I didn’t stare too long at the bed, which meant that I somehow ended up staring at Hawke’s broad back as he scanned the room. The edges of his hair brushed the collar of his tunic, and those strands looked so…soft. I hadn’t touched them that night at the Red Pearl, and I wished I had.

I needed help.

“Is it okay for me to enter?” I asked, clasping my hands together. “Or should I wait out here while you inspect under the bed for stray dust bunnies?”

Hawke looked over his shoulder. “It’s not dust bunnies I’m worried about. Steps, on the other hand? Yes.”

“Oh, my gods—”

“And the Dark One will keep coming until he has what he wants,” he said, looking away. I shivered. “Your room should always be checked before you enter it.”

I folded my arms over my chest, chilled despite the fire. I watched as he circled back to the door, quietly closing it.

Hawke faced me, one hand on the hilt of a short sword, and the flipping in my chest doubled. His face was so strikingly pieced together. From the wide set of his lips, the upward slant of his eyebrows, to the shadowy hollows under his high, broad cheekbones, he could’ve been the muse for the paintings that hung in the city’s Atheneum.

“Are you all right?” Hawke asked.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Something appeared to happen to you as the Duke addressed the people.”

I made a mental note to remember exactly how observant Hawke was. “I was…” I started to say that I’d been fine, but I knew he wouldn’t believe that. “I got a little dizzy. I guess I haven’t eaten enough today.”

His intense gaze tracked over what he could see of my face, and even with the veil, I felt unbearably exposed when he looked at me like he did then. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” I asked, confused.

Hawke didn’t respond immediately. “I hate talking to the veil.”

“Oh.” Understanding rippled through me as I reached up and touched the length that hid my hair. “I imagine most people don’t enjoy it.”

“I can’t imagine you do.”

“I don’t,” I admitted and then glanced around the room as if I expected Priestess Analia to be hiding somewhere. “I mean, I’d prefer if people were able to see me.”

He tilted his head to the side. “What does it feel like?”

Air hitched in my throat. No one…no one had ever asked me that before, and while I had a lot of thoughts and feelings about the veil, I wasn’t sure how to put them into words even though I trusted Hawke.

Some things, once spoken, were given a life of their own.

I walked to one of the chairs and sat on the edge as I tried to figure out what to say. Suddenly, my brain sort of spit out the only thing that came to mind. “It feels suffocating.”

Hawke drew closer. “Then why do you wear it?”

“I didn’t realize I had a choice.” I looked up at him.

“You have a choice now.” He knelt in front of me. “It’s just you and me, walls, and a pathetically inadequate supply of furniture.”

My lips twitched.

“Do you wear your veil when you’re with Tawny?” he asked.

I shook my head no.

“Then why are you wearing it now?”

“Because…I’m allowed to be without my veil with her.”

“I was told that you were supposed to be veiled at all times, even with those approved to see you.”

He was, of course, correct.

Hawke arched a brow.

I sighed. “I don’t wear my veil when I’m in