“Because you have some fantasy attached to turning me?”

A shock of anger flashed in his eyes, and he looked away from me, his jaw clenched.

“I want to do what is best for you,” he said. “You have not even managed to accept or master shifting. You need time before you have to handle another change in your life.”

“I cannot be responsible for your death,” I said. “I can’t.”

“You won’t.” He spoke with a conviction I did not have.

He lifted his hand once more, slowly this time, to prepare me, and as he stroked my face, I leaned forward and kissed him. It was soft, barely a kiss at all, but the gentleness of it spoke to our pain, our fear, our love.

“I will call for a bath,” he said. “We must prepare for the executions.”

Adrian rang the servant’s bell, and my heart rose into my throat when the first knock came. It should have been Violeta waiting on the other side, directing the other servants as they filled the tub with water. Instead, a string of people I hardly recognized entered, carrying pail after pail of hot water into the room.

“Where is Vesna?” I asked.

“She will be along after your bath,” Adrian said, meeting my gaze. “I…wanted this time with you.”

I did not mind spending more time with him.

When the servants had gone, I untied my nightgown and let it pool at my feet, leaving Violeta’s necklace on, before stepping into the bath. Adrian watched me as I lowered into the water, but his gaze was different, not alight with desire but a strange intensity. I wondered if he was trying to prepare himself for the last time he saw my body—likely bruised and broken and bloodied.

He waited to approach until I was submerged in the water and knelt beside the bath.

“Is this okay?” he asked, and I nodded.

He lathered soap on a washcloth and began at my back, running the cloth over my skin in soft circles. There were places he touched that were sore, muscles that ached, and as he passed over them, I took a breath, releasing it slowly between my lips. When he moved to my shoulders and arms, his expression was hard, his mouth tight. I lifted my hand to his face, water dripping from my skin. I had no words to offer, but he met my gaze, eyes glassy.

“You should finish,” he said, taking my hand from his face, offering the washcloth.

“It’s all right,” I said, voice hushed, holding my breath as I guided his hand over my breasts.

“Isolde,” Adrian said tightly.