Blood pooled thickly under her cheeks.
“Really?”
At Garin’s lifted brows, Lilac pulled back and glared. “Does... that surprise you?”
“No, I—I mean, this is going a lot smoother than I thought it would,” he muttered. “That’s all.”
He scooted back, pivoting to better face her, and suddenly cupped her chin in his palm. Before she could ask, his light touch upon her cheek silenced her. Her skin prickled pleasantly under his touch, and the feeling radiated to the rest of her body.
“Before we begin,” he said intently, holding her gaze. “I want you to know that this will hurt, but the pain is brief.”
Lilac blinked and nodded dizzily. They didn’t have to be in love. Right? Was this what it was like to be reckless? To be normal enough to be allowed the freedom—the room—for recklessness, and other possible mistakes? To regain control of the life so many years concealed had robbed her of?
Without hesitation, she reached down to undo the strings at her bosom.
But Garin’s large hand hastily clamped down over hers. “Hold on,” he half chuckled, shaking his head vigorously back and forth. “Hold on. What are you doing?”
Something told Lilac that not much flustered him. Even if they’d barely touched each other, his eyes were wide as saucers.
“Oh. Would… you like to do it instead?”
Rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, Garin regarded her as if she were mental instead of something to desire.
“Erm, no, that doesn’t need to come off.” His voice shook slightly. He leaned in, taking her by the waist and cupping the back of her head ever so gently. “Close your eyes and breathe.”
Lilac did as she was told, allowing him to recline her just a little. The knots in her stomach seemed to undo themselves all too quickly, bouncing between nerves and excitement. Her breath hitched when she finally felt his lips brush her neck, and—
The pressure was gone, and a bloodcurdling yelp shattered the silence.
When Lilac opened her eyes, he was curled on the floor in front of her, groaning and clutching his head with both hands. She quickly righted herself, heart pounding.
“What happened? Did I do something wrong?”
“Shut,” he breathed. Then, with restraint, he lowered his voice. “Shut your beautiful mouth for a second. Please.”
Lilac couldn’t believe it. Perhaps he’d had a strong aversion or allergic reaction to her lavender oil. At the castle there had been a miserable maiden of her mother’s who’d often react to roses and oysters.
Then again, Garin didn’t look all that sick. Just furious.
Hot tears welled behind her eyes. This was what she got for making herself so desperately available. For being so vulnerable.
She stormed over to the fireside to retrieve her bag, then spun to leave—but Garin had pushed past his invisible injury. He stood, blocking the doorway. The rest of her fading buzz wore off almost immediately.
“I am leaving,” she said firmly, clenching her burlap sack with both hands to stop her fists from shaking.
The corner of Garin’s jaw twitched as if he struggled with something. “You’re not.”
Fear thrummed through her.
“I won’t harm you,” he said, desperation fraying his frustration. “You have my word—”
“Let me go,” she demanded, fighting to keep calm command of her voice.
Before he could reply, Meriam’s shrill voice floated up the stairwell and through the door.
“Garin!” the innkeeper shrieked. “They’re brawling again!” A glass shattered faintly in the distance.
Garin swore under his breath. “Don’t move. I-I’ll be right back.” He slipped out of the door and shut it again faster than Lilac could get there.
Panic rising in her chest, she tried the knob. It turned easily. He either hadn’t bothered or forgot to lock it. She swallowed against her dry throat. Both fear and humiliation were the only things stopping her from bolting down into the tavern, out the way she came. If he gave chase, she realized with a violent shudder… who in the Darkling tavern would come to her defense?
No one.
Lilac fought down another shiver. She’d find another way to escape before he returned.
Pure instinct reminded her of her belt, and the very important dagger attached to it. She scooped it up off the floor and quickly refastened it around her waist.
She needed to make every day, every minute of her trip count, and when Garin returned, who knows what he’d intended for her. She wouldn’t make it to Paimpont or back to the castle in time if she never made it out of the inn alive. Lilac held her breath and pressed her ear once more to