Everything slowed to that moment, this very second, where his body pressed her into his bed and the taste of him on her lips, arousing her need for him. She wanted this. Even if he’d said no before, she never had. It was hard to even process the thought as his tongue delved into her mouth and touched hers.

“Oh gods,” she breathed.

And then with the only force of will she had, she used her air magic to physically push him away from her.

She scrambled off of the bed, her chest heaving, stays undone and dress askew. She would have done anything for him that night. Anything. But not like this. Not after today.

Fordham came to himself as the force of her magic hit him. His eyes rounded. “Kerrigan, I …”

“You should go.”

“I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you shouldn’t,” she said. “You told me once that we couldn’t be together because you were cursed. That I couldn’t have this. Do you feel differently?”

He straightened at the harsh reality. “No. No, I don’t.”

She nodded, grinding her teeth together. “Is this because of what happened with Dacia?”

“Don’t,” he snarled, stepping back from her as if she’d slapped him. “Don’t mention her.”

Kerrigan reared back in alarm. Prescott had said not to mention that name, but she hadn’t thought it would elicit this much of a reaction. Was he still in love with her? Was that what this was?

“Fordham, I …” Now, it was her turn to be at a loss for words.

He bowed dramatically at the waist. “My lady.”

Then, he vanished from the room, slamming the door shut between them.

Kerrigan collapsed backward. She had just made a terrible mistake. A mistake in turning him down, a mistake in bringing Dacia up. Why couldn’t it have just been fun and easy? This wouldn’t have been her first time with a man. It hadn’t had to be complicated. But this was Fordham. Nothing was just fun with him. Everything meant more, felt more, needed more. She’d lied to herself for long enough. About everything. She couldn’t lie to herself about him.

9

The Wall

Fordham was gone the next morning when Kerrigan awoke. The night before was a fuzzy mess in her head. She needed to figure out where they stood and what he was going to do about the king. Now that neither of their brains was addled with drink. But he was nowhere to be found.

Benton and Bayton came to break her fast, and she ate the offering without complaint as they dressed her for the day.

“How was the ball?” Benton asked.

Kerrigan shuddered. “Everything I thought it would be and worse.”

Bayton nodded sympathetically as she wrangled Kerrigan’s hair into place. “The balls are the hardest.”