Levana scanned the shimmering, patched-together pieces of Earth, up and up, until she was looking at Evret again. “It’s magnificent. But why are you giving it to me?”
His face started to crumple, and he seemed to be holding his emotions together through stubborn determination. “She told me that you’d come into her shop, Your Highness. She said you admired it.” He gulped. “I thought she would like for you to have it—as you were her princess, as you are mine. And I also thought … I wanted to show my gratitude to you, for persuading Her Majesty to let me go, when Sol was … You’ll never know what that meant for me, Your Highness. You’ll have my gratitude until the day I die.”
Levana cleared her throat, eyeing the quilt. She loved everything about it—the design, the impeccable craftsmanship. She loved that Evret was giving it to her. But she also knew that she could never look on something that his wife had made and not feel a twinge of resentment.
“The quilt is extraordinary,” she finally said, standing. “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to store it somewhere safe, and we can give it to your daughter when she’s older. She’s the one that should have it.”
Evret’s eyes widened with surprise, then, slowly, softened into a hesitant smile. “I … thank you, Your Highness. That’s…” He looked away, pressing his lips tight with emotion. “That is incredibly kind. You are incredibly kind. Thank you.”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me. I don’t want your gratitude, Evret.”
He let his arms relax too, letting the quilt sag in front of him. “My friendship, then,” he said. “If you still want it. Though I’m merely a guard, and not deserving of such a friend.”
His smile was so unnerving that Levana had to turn away, flustered. She could feel her cheeks heating. Her heart was a volcano, now, hot lava gushing through her veins.
“No, Evret. You must know that I think of you as more than … than simply a friend.”
The grin froze. His brow twitched with a hint of panic. “Your Highness—I…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want my coming here to…”
“To what?” she urged, taking a step toward him.
“To give the wrong impression,” he said, softening the words with another tentative smile. “You’re a sweet girl. Sometimes I think that you’re … you’re confused, but I know you mean well. And I know you’re lonely. I see how you are around the rest of the court.”
Levana bristled, mortified to think of all he had seen. Channary’s taunts, the court’s laughter …
“I know you need a friend. I can help you. I can be there for you.” Dropping one corner of the quilt, he dragged a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, this is coming out wrong. I didn’t mean that to sound so…”
“Condescending?”
He flinched. “I care about you. That’s what I’m trying to say. I’m here for you, if you ever need someone to talk to, someone you can be yourself around.”
Levana bit her lower lip, irritated, but also filled with such adoration for this man that she wanted to weep. Her gaze traced the continents of Earth, the patchwork of raw edges and shimmering gold thread. She inhaled, deeply.
“I know,” she said. “I know you care about me. You’re the only one who does.” Smiling bashfully, she dared to meet his eyes again. “First the pendant and now the quilt. It seems as though you’re trying to give me the whole world, Sir Hayle.”
He shook his head. “Only some kindness, Your Highness.”
Her smile brightened as she stepped closer, her bare feet treading across the luxurious quilt, crossing over Antarctica, the Atlantic Ocean … “Are you sure?” she asked, imitating the seductive way she’d seen Channary look up through her lashes at a potential suitor. “Are you sure that’s all you’re here for, Sir Hayle?”
His attention had dropped to her feet crossing over the quilt. His brow furrowed. “Your Highness?”
“I’m not confused, Evret. I’m not lonely.” She grasped the top edge of the quilt, and Evret let go. She let it fall to the ground, and his alarmed expression returned.
Evret stepped back, but without even realizing she was doing it, Levana reached out with her gift, subtly holding his feet in place. “Wha—?”
“I’m in love with you, Evret.”
The concern deepened, a hundredfold. “Your Highness—no, that’s not—”
“I know. I know. You were happily married. You loved your wife very much. I get it. But she’s gone now, and I’m here, and don’t you see? This was how it was meant to happen. This was always how it was meant to happen.”
His mouth was hanging open now, staring at her as if he didn’t recognize her. As if he hadn’t been smiling so sweetly at her a moment before, saying all those endearing things he’d said. As if he hadn’t already confessed the truth.
Friendship. Friendship.
No. The pendant, the quilt, his being here all alone in her chambers.