“Corwin.” She pushed against his chest. “What are we doing?”
Groaning, he braced himself up far enough to stare down at her. “What do you mean?” He dipped his head again and nipped at her throat, playful. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Yes, yes it was, she thought, her eyes slipping closed again. Her body knew exactly what it wanted even though she had never been here before. She bit her lip, fighting back the wave of desire his mouth stirred in her as the nip became a kiss.
“But what happens after?”
Corwin raised his head again, a devilish grin splayed over his lips. “Well, if it goes well tonight, we can do it again tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that.”
When he tried to kiss her again, she turned her head away before he could.
“What is it, Kate?” Corwin frowned down at her, a crease of concern in his brow. His hand rested on her hip, one finger idly tracing a stone on the moonbelt.
Oh gods, the moonbelt! Understanding blazed into her mind, cooling the heat of her ardor in the span of a second. No wonder he was acting so boldly. He’d made an assumption, had probably made it weeks ago when she’d first dropped the moonbelt in front of him back at Farhold. He believed she was somebody different than who she was. Someone who had taken lovers for the mere pleasure of her body and with no concern of the consequences to her heart. But she didn’t know how to separate the two. She might’ve taken to wearing the moonbelt, but she was the same Kate she’d always been.
Confusion clouded Corwin’s face. “Is it assurance you need? Do you want me to ask you formally?”
Now it was her turn to look confused. “Ask what?”
“For you to be my paramour.”
“Your what?” Kate sat up, shoving him off her with enough force that he grunted and fell back on the bed. She climbed to her feet, outrage thrumming through her now. “Your paramour?” Was that what this was about? He’d said he didn’t want her to leave. Was this how he hoped to convince her to stay?
Corwin blinked. “Yes, surely you know what one is.”
“Of course I do,” she snapped. The practice was common among the nobility, where so many marriages were made for politics instead of love. Paramours occasionally held power and influence in their own right, sometimes even over the wife of the man to whom they were bound.
The wife.
For a second Kate thought she might be sick at the idea of sharing Corwin with another woman. No. That would not be her. Not ever.
Kate pulled the robe back over her shoulders and fastened the belt once more. “The answer is no, Corwin. I won’t be paramour to any man. You must not know me at all if you thought I could ever be that to you.”
With a bewildered look on his face, Corwin rose from the bed, adjusting his own clothes. “I don’t understand. You wanted this just as much as I did.” He motioned to her helplessly.
She couldn’t deny it. “Yes, I wanted it.” I still do, her body screamed, and she was glad he couldn’t hear it. Kate drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But it’s not all I want. At least, I don’t think it is. But what I do know is that I don’t want to give you that part of myself if you’re not willing to give the same to me.”
Corwin’s mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?”
“Your wife. The princess you’re bound to marry someday.” She put her hands on her hips. “Can’t you understand? Would you be willing to share me with another man?”
“Absolutely not.” He huffed, nostrils flaring.
“And there we are.” Kate took a deep breath, reining in her temper. “I will not live a life that’s not my own. Not even for you.”
“I would never ask you to,” Corwin said, defeat filling his gaze. “But you know I have no choice about who I will marry.”
She did. Only . . . “You’re the high prince and might be the high king. The world will answer to you, not the other way around.”
“That’s not fair, Kate. You know it’s not so simple.”
“But it could be,” she said, indignant. “If you would just . . .” She trailed off, not even certain herself what she was saying. The disappointment she felt now was the same she’d felt years ago—when, once again, he had chosen the kingdom over her.
Corwin exhaled, his expression wounded. For a moment he was the boy he’d once been. “I thought we were becoming friends again . . . becoming like we were before.”
Kate pressed her lips together, memories of the last few weeks rising up in her mind—of their morning rides in the countryside, the banter, and casual touches. Despite how much she’d tried to resist, she’d let him sneak back into her life, allowing herself to forget everything that stood between them.
He is the high prince, and he’ll never be anything else.
She sighed and said in a soft voice, “We can never be like we were before, Corwin. Those days died with my father.”
Flinching, Corwin dropped his gaze, guilt splayed across his features. Then he turned and walked out the door, leaving her in the dark silence of her room, alone with her pride and nothing more.
22
Kate
THE SACRED SWORD WAS A different place in the morning. Quiet and mostly deserted, Kate found it strangely welcoming. Golden sunshine filled the foyer from a tall, crystal glass window set above the entrance. It warmed the top of Kate’s head as she stood waiting for Madam Anise. The girl who had greeted her when she arrived was different from the ones last night. Dressed in a plain skirt and modest bodice, she barely paid Kate any mind at all as she cleaned the wooden podium, wiping it down with an oil-soaked rag.
Kate craned her head to peer through the entrance to the tavern, hearing the distant clank of crockery. A pleasant smell wafted toward her, reminding her stomach that she’d neglected it this morning in her haste to depart her quarters before Corwin showed up at her door with more of his tantalizing sweet rolls. In hindsight, it was a silly act. Corwin wouldn’t have come today. Not after last night. She supposed that might have been the real reason behind her hurry—avoiding the sting of Corwin’s absence.
It’s for the best, Kate reminded herself. She should never have let him get that close again. She always knew they could never be together, a truth more apparent now than ever.
Finally, the door to the small office opened and Madam Anise appeared. “Come in, Miss Brighton.”
Kate hurried forward, her stomach starting to cartwheel. She’d half expected to be turned away again. The office was much the same as it had been the night before, small and dark, with no windows and only two candles burning. Anise motioned for Kate to sit, and she did so, folding her hands in her lap and pressing her lips together to keep in the questions bubbling up inside her. The woman sat at the opposite side of the desk, letting her forearms rest on it, hands clasped. Once again, she wore an austere dress, this one the dark gray of storm clouds.
“Before we go any further, I want to give you the chance to walk away from this while you still can.”
Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was she kidding? “No disrespect, madam, but I didn’t come this far to turn back now.”
“No, but you might never have started if you’d known where it would lead.” Anise leaned back in the chair. “The answers you seek will change your life, Kate Brighton, in ways you can’t even guess. You won’t ever be able to unlearn what you learn. From what I’ve gathered, your life here in Norgard is somewhat comfortable. Prince Corwin seems to care for you, you’re living in your family’s old quarters, and there is little that you could want for.”