He was expecting me to say something. I couldn’t. I offered a faint smile, failing to conjure words while he studied my features with a rapt focus that lightened the blue of his eyes.

I lowered my gaze to my meal, and though I wasn’t so sure I could stomach it, I began to eat.

The silence screamed louder than the call of a night hawk streaming past the window toward the mountain peaks beyond. The king chose to end it with a slight clearing of his throat. “I was surprised to see you and Carelda together.”

“I know.”

“Dare I ask what it was you were discussing?”

I set my cutlery down and picked up the wine, swallowing a greedy sip before answering honestly. “You, of course.” My eyes swung to him as I swirled the wine, and I smiled again at the sight of his lowered brows and stiff jaw. “Fear not, we shall not compare notes on bedding you.”

He cursed, his knife falling to his plate with a clang. “Astrantia.”

“She is quite lovely, though,” I admitted, unable to help myself. “I can see the allure.”

“I haven’t fucked her since…”

I took another sip and lifted a brow, prompting, “Since?”

His silence and the clustering of his features as he gave his eyes to his food sickened me.

I laughed, the sound sour and a distraction from the churning in my stomach. “You’ve fucked her since her arrival at the towers, haven’t you?”

“Not for some months,” he said, and harsh enough to suggest he hated even having to say as much. A storm now clouding his eyes, he handed them back to me. “I meant it when I said I miss you. You know I need you and that I’ll never stop wanting you.”

“But never only me,” I said, as the truth of that crystalized and added another layer of mortar to my chest. He didn’t respond for some moments, and I saw the lie building in the clenching of his long fingers as they gripped his cutlery. I didn’t want it. “It’s okay. I do not wish for pretty lies.”

He frowned. “But you misunderstand me.”

I shook my head. “I think it’s you who doesn’t quite understand what it is you want, and I think perhaps it’s been that way for far longer than either of us realize.”

“I just told you what I want.”

“Telling and showing are two entirely different things, my king,” I said, though not unkindly, and I found my stomach eased as I drank more wine. “You’ve never been one to handle your emotions too well.”

“Bloom…” he warned and picked up his wine. Staring into the glass, he sighed. “Never mind.”