He lounged in his seat, taking an appreciative sip of wine as though her future didn’t hang in his grasp.

“I already have enough sins to answer for,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, it’s been amusing to watch you get away with it for so long.”

“Just like it was amusing to bring me here? To a—” Emry lowered her voice to a whisper, “a brothel?”

Gawain’s grin stretched wider. “A bathhouse,” he corrected. “With extremely loose morals.”

“And when it stops being amusing?” Emry asked nervously.

“Is that how you think of me?” he asked, putting a hand to his heart. “Like some villain lurking in the shadows?”

Emry didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

Gawain grimaced. “I’m not my father,” he said. “I have no desire for a position in Uther’s court, nor do I want one in Arthur’s. To be honest, I would prefer less of a position than the one I’m granted, currently.”

“Yes, it must be tiring, wearing such expensive coats and keeping such expensive company,” Emry said lightly.

“Oh, I think we both know how to play a part when it best serves us.”

“And what part are you playing, Lord Gawain?” Emry smiled sweetly.

Gawain took another slow sip of wine. “In London? The faultless second runner-up to the throne. In Paris? Well, my father insists I keep an eye on things.”

“What sorts of things?” Emry asked.

Gawain’s eyes met hers and searched her face, as if he wasn’t sure how she would react.

“As a royal, I’m received at court. What I overhear while I am there is my own business. And, if I wish to share it, Camelot’s.”

So he was a spy. It made sense. As did the fact that he reported to his father.

“And my secret?” Emry demanded.

“Well, I could blackmail you,” Gawain suggested. “If you’d like.”

“I could turn your nipples into garden slugs, if you’d like,” Emry returned.

Gawain laughed. “I should inform the king of your deception,” he said, suddenly serious. “Masquerading under a false identity at court is a serious crime.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Emry retorted.

“I think you have no choice but to see it through,” said Gawain. He took a sip of wine before adding, “Your deception is foolish, but endearing. I like you. I have a terrible feeling that my cousin does, too.”

“Not currently,” Emry said with a sigh.

“I’ve seen similar lovers’ quarrels blow over easily enough,” Gawain said innocently.

“It’s not—” Emry stopped herself.

“Yes?” Gawain asked, leaning forward.

“Any of your business,” she finished, annoyed he’d almost drawn a confession out of her. She folded her arms across her chest. “So, you’ll keep your mouth shut?”