From Blood & Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,16

busy at the moment.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Kieran replied as Hawke refocused on me. Kieran knocked again. “But the interruption is unavoidable.”

“The only unavoidable thing I see is your soon-to-be broken hand if you pound on that door one more time,” Hawke warned, and my eyes widened. “What, Princess?” His voice lowered. “I told you I was really intrigued.”

“Then I must risk a broken hand,” Kieran answered.

A growl of frustration rumbled from deep within Hawke’s throat, the sound strangely animalistic. Goosebumps pimpled my skin.

“The…envoy has arrived,” Kieran added through the door.

Shadows crept across Hawke’s face. His lips moved as if he murmured something, but the sound was too low for me to hear.

A chill chased away some of the heat. “An…envoy?”

He nodded. “The supplies we’ve been waiting for,” he explained. “I need to go.”

I nodded in return, understanding that he had to leave as I reached between us, grasping the edge of the cloak.

For a long moment, Hawke didn’t move, but then he shifted off me, standing. He called out to Kieran as he grabbed his tunic off the floor. I yanked the forgotten dagger out of the mattress, quickly sheathing it as he pulled the tunic over his head and shrugged a baldric over his shoulders, securing the belt at his waist. There were two sheaths at his sides for weapons—weapons I hadn’t been aware of until now.

He picked up two short swords from the chest near the door, and I thought that maybe I needed to be better aware of my surroundings the next time I barged into a room.

His blades were honed to a wicked, deadly point, intended for close-contact fighting, and each side was serrated, designed to cut through flesh and muscle.

I knew how to use them, too, but I kept that to myself.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can.” He sheathed the swords flat to his sides. “I swear.”

I nodded once more.

Hawke stared at me. “Tell me that you’ll wait for me, Princess.”

My heart skipped over itself. “I will.”

Turning, he walked to the door and then stopped. He faced me. “I look forward to returning.”

I said nothing as he left the room, opening the door only wide enough for him to slip through. When the door clicked into place behind him, I let go of the breath I had been holding and looked down at the front of my gown. The area of my breast was still damp, the white material nearly transparent. My cheeks flushed hotly as I scooted off the bed and stood on surprisingly weak knees.

My gaze lifted to the door, and I closed my eyes, unsure if I was disappointed or relieved by the interruption. Truthfully, it was a mixture of both, because I’d lied to Hawke.

I wouldn’t be here when he returned.

“What did you do last night?”

The question snapped my attention from the biscuit I was currently devouring to the Lady in Wait who sat across from me.

Tawny Lyon was the second daughter of a successful merchant, given to the Royal Court at the age of thirteen during the Rite. Tall and lithe, with rich brown skin and beautiful brown eyes, she was absolutely enviable. Some of the Ladies and Lords in Wait were assigned tasks outside of preparation to join the Court after Ascension, and since we were the same age, she had been assigned as my companion shortly after her Rite. Her duty ranged from keeping me company to assisting me with my bath or to dress if I required it.

Tawny was one of the few people who could make me laugh over the silliest things. Actually, she was one of the few people who were even allowed to speak to me. She was the closest thing I had to a friend, and I cared for her deeply.

I believed she cared for me too, or at the very least, liked me, but she was required to be with me unless I dismissed her for the day. If she hadn’t been given the task of being my companion, we never would’ve spoken. That fact was not a reflection upon her as a person, but because she would be like all the rest, either forbidden to socialize with me or wary of my presence.

The knowledge often sat heavy in my chest, another chunk of ice, but even though I knew our friendship was rooted in duty, I trusted her.

At least, to a certain degree.

She knew I was trained, but she didn’t know the things I sometimes assisted Vikter with,