Before I can respond, he spins and takes off down the hallway. I watch, motionless, as he leaves, his words echoing in my mind.
I can choose.
Choice. A foreign word in our society, yet it rolled off his tongue so easily, and without regard for his prince. He’d also given me permission to address him with familiarity, after my blunder, of course. I run my fingers over my now-cool lips, puzzled.
I shake myself from my trance and turn to my chamber, realizing he’s allowed me the rest of the walk by myself. I smile. Glancing over my shoulder, I see him near a pillar, communicator to his ear. He doesn’t respond to whoever is talking. He only drops the device into his vest pocket and marches quickly away.
Part of me wants to follow after him, find out what could make the first knight rush off at such a pace. Considering his strange behavior at the betrothal, I’m growing more curious regarding the brooding knight. Another part wants to bury myself under covers and forget this night. My exhaustion wins out, and I slog to my room.
I close the heavy wooden door behind me and begin unlacing the back of my dress. Luckily, it’s not one that needs the assistance of another to remove. I suppose, like wedding dresses, it’s meant to easily disrobe from.
A sickness bites my stomach, and I shake the thought from my head. Once my gown is removed, I immediately go to loosen the strap of my leather sheath and freeze. I’m alarmed for a moment until I remember it’s hidden between the mattresses.
What if I’d been stupid enough to wear it tonight? Sebastian had been more forward than I ever thought possible. His hand had been in the very spot where I keep it. Panic squeezes my chest. Now that we’re betrothed, he may try to take more liberties. I’ll have to be more careful.
My father’s outlawed dagger is the only thing connecti
ng me to him, and the only thing that wards off my feelings of weakness, the ones Sebastian made me feel so prominently tonight.
A fresh set of tears brims in my eyes, and I close them, feeling the warmth trail down my cheeks. I only wish my father would have trained me to use the dagger. I’d have a better chance out there on my own if I had a different skill set. Hunting, fighting, anything to protect myself.
I won’t allow fear to deter me from my goal. Finding a way past the wall and a place of my own, wherever I must, is better than being a prisoner. My father preached as much as I grew up. Even if he, himself, stuck to most of the laws, he knew that being ruled by King Hart and living within this façade was wrong.
All these thoughts exhaust me further, and I climb into bed still wearing my undergarments, without changing into my nightgown. Before I lie down, the heart-shaped betrothal gift slips over my skin, its chilled silver causing my chest to ache.
Sebastian more than staked his claim on me as he arrogantly admitted that I belong to him now. A burning rises in my chest, and I clutch the locket. I yank it from my neck and hurl it to the floor.
I belong to no one.
NINE
Breakfast is awkward the next morning. Sebastian won’t meet my eyes, and he continually kneads his temples, likely trying to massage away the headache from his hangover.
I attempted to feign a headache of my own this morning, claiming the betrothal and celebration had taxed me. I pleaded with Madity to let me rest in my chamber all day. After tending to the cuts on my hands, she so worried that she threatened to call the castle physician. That was enough to get me out of bed.
Now I question my choice, the idea that facing Sebastian would be better than being probed. As I sit across from him, I remember the fierce glint in his eyes as he forced me to look into them, and I grip my fork. The hard metal cuts into my palm.
I must find a way to move past this. My behavior toward him last night was wretched, true, but it was undeserving of my being treated like a whore. I inhale deeply. I must forgive his actions, if only because he’s given me a new purpose. Something more than just becoming stronger and learning to use my dagger: become self-sufficient.
Sebastian’s hand shakes as he lifts his glass of water. “I will never drink again.”
Looking down at my plate, I lower my fork, forcing my hand to release its death grip.
“Zara,” he says, and I meet his eyes. “Can you forgive…?” He trails off. His eyes fall to the table. “I apologize for my behavior last night.”
I wonder if I should let him simmer in his shame a little longer, but I have more important things for the day. I need to work this to my advantage. “I forgive you, Sebastian. It was not you, but the wine.” I smile, my lips twitching. “Only, do not think I’ll be so agreeable the next time you decide to drink Karm dry of alcohol.”
His lips curl into a small smile. “Then you are not angry with me?”
I force my smile wider. “I—” Damn. I’m still enraged, and I can feel his firm lips forcing a kiss on me. My first one. I close my eyes, take in a cleansing breath, and Devlan’s words come back to me. It doesn’t count.
“I’m not very angry anymore,” I say. “But don’t assume this means you are welcome to whatever you please.” I glare at him. Sebastian’s words from last night hit me like a punch. You’re mine. I shake my head, clearing the disturbing memory. “Now. What are your plans for the day?”
He’s taken back by my sudden change of topic, and his brow shoots up. “I haven’t gotten further than working up my apology to you, to be honest.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll postpone my joust practice until the morrow. We can do anything you’d like today.”
Apologetic Sebastian is very different from Vain and Disturbing Sebastian. Is it an act? Or is his hangover so miserable it’s taken him off his game? I think for a moment, calculating the order in which I need to work my plan.
“All right.” I smile brightly. Let’s see how far I can push this. “I want to learn how to ride a horse.”