“I’ll get dressed.” Motions abrupt, Trent turned away.

“Trent,” I called, and he stopped short at the guilt in my voice. I said nothing when he came to join me when I gestured helplessly. He sighed when he sat down on the couch, smelling of soap and meadow and spiced wine.

He was tired, and I looked at our hands twined together. “I don’t know how you do it,” I said. “Going to sleep whenever you get the chance.”

Trent smiled, his thumb rubbing my palm both rough and gentle. “It comes from trying to live with a human clock for most of my life.” His arm went around me in a sideways hug. “I’m sorry. I was selfish to try to keep you here. Much of this feels like my doing.”

“You haven’t done anything,” I said, leaning into him as his grip on me eased.

“That’s just it. I feel as if I’ve been more of a hindrance than anything. I really thought we could walk in there and still get back out.”

I gave his fingers a squeeze. “And you got caught. I know the feeling. Don’t worry about it. How were you to know that Cormel ...” I stopped and bit my lip. That your clout was so damaged by me that it couldn’t keep you safe anymore.

“My selfish desires screwed up the alliance that would have united the dewar and the enclave under one voice.” His head was down and his words were soft as he gave voice to long-held guilt.

Dropping my head onto his shoulder, I stared at nothing. “The dewar would have divided anyway, and you’d be married to Ellasbeth,” I said, and I actually felt him shudder.

“No. You’re right,” he said quickly. “But no one is listening to me anymore.”

I smiled in the dark, my fingers tracing the lines of his hand in mine. I’d never seen anyone who had two life lines before. He wasn’t used to having his words ignored, and I understood his frustration.

“Three years wasted.” He sighed. “Not to mention most of my business ventures.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t have—”

Trent’s hand slipped from mine, reaching to cup my cheek. “Don’t even think it,” he said earnestly. “The past few months have been the best in my life.”

He was looking at my lips, and my pulse quickened. “Tell me it’s going to be okay,” I whispered.

His fingers ran a tingling path down my jawline as his hand dropped from me. “It’s going to be okay. You want to go home?”