With gentle hands, he lifted the jeweled necklace and draped it around her neck. “The clasps are so tiny,” he said with a wince. “I think they were meant for smaller fingers, but I will do my best.” His fingers grazed the skin of her neck and she felt gooseflesh tingle across her back. It was a sweet agony. “There we are. It was difficult, but I rose to the challenge. The earrings next. Which do you prefer from the set?”
“Those,” Maia whispered hoarsely, pointing with a trembling hand.
“I like them as well,” he said, reaching for the dangling ones. “If I kneel, it will help me see better. It is rather dark in here.” She could feel his breath brush against her cheek as he knelt next to her. She prepared herself for his touch again and tried not to flinch when his finger traced the shape of her earlobe. “I think they go like so,” he said carefully, but she could see him now, could see the earnestness in his face. His hands were trembling too. His voice was confident and proud, but she could see an unsettled look in his eyes—almost worry.
The pin of the earring poked her and she flinched.
“Forgive me,” he muttered darkly, trying again. “I see the scar, but it is closed.”
Maia nodded. “Let me.” She took the earring from him and quickly brought it to the right spot. It took a little force to push the pin through. Since her father had reclaimed all of her jewels, she had not worn earrings in a long while. There was a pinch of pain as she fastened it shut. Then she quickly did the other one, gritting her teeth against the prick, and they were done.
His face was still level with hers. He was such a handsome man, his hair even darker than hers, his shoulders full and strong. She remembered how ruthlessly and bravely he had faced off against the men who had accosted her on the docks. He had stood up to Corriveaux for her. He wanted to dethrone her father because of her. So different from her father, who betrayed her at every turn.
“I could almost kiss you,” he whispered. “Why am I so tempted?” He chuckled to himself and stood, shaking his head as if to clear it.
She had seen the look in his eyes—the struggle. As she swallowed, she realized that she had been tempted as well. There was something very powerful in a kiss, she realized. It was a mark of intimacy. It was a claiming and a surrendering. And she realized darkly that with the brand on her shoulder, it was a boon she could never give. To anyone. Not even her own children.
“One more thing,” he murmured softly. He returned again to the crate and withdrew another box made of sandalwood. It had a rich smell. It was about the size of a plate, tall enough for him to use both hands. When he opened it, her heart thrilled at the sight of the gold coronet inside. Delicately, he set down the box and settled the coronet on her head, pressing it gently until it stayed.
“Now you look like a queen.”
He knelt down in front of her, as if he were a knight paying homage, and grasped her hands in his. “You wished to tell me something, Maia. But before you do, I must tell you something first.”
Her heart hammered violently in her chest. “What is it?” Her throat was so tight it hurt.
“I must confess something. You are not at all as I imagined you would be. I have . . . how can I say this without it sounding strange? You have probably realized this by now, but I have thought of you for many years. We were destined to be together, you and I.” He swallowed. “First, we were trothed as infants to bring unity to our two kingdoms—Comoros and Dahomey. My real name, as you know, is Gideon, which I abhor and always have. Who wishes to be named after an ancient Aldermaston? You must call me Collier. Always. Promise me.”
“I will,” Maia said, smiling shyly.
“Thank you. Not in front of the nobles of the court, of course. You can address me with any endearment that suits you in that case. Second, when I was hostage to the Paeizians, I had a lot of time to think. Often I thought of you. I secretly hoped that your father would . . . well, that he would intervene. That he would help pay the ransom for me. It was a foolish hope, I know. I am ashamed to admit it. I hoped you would rescue me.” His mouth contorted into a sad smile. “I was disappointed. Heartbroken, actually. But my father finally paid the ransom and my brother and I were freed. Maia, there is nothing more important to me. My new name, Feint Collier, means freedom to me. Please keep the secret.”
Maia reached out and touched his shoulder. “I will.”
“That said, I must have freedom to ride, to explore, to wander off. I give you that same freedom. I will not control you. Not that I could! All I ask is that you offer me the same troth and do not bind me to pastures or plows or pillows. I must be free.”
Maia put her hands in her lap. “I do not have any problem with that. Though I do like to ride as well. I also like to hawk and hunt and practice archery.”
“And wander across deadly mountains,” he said, smiling wryly. “I envy your adventures. I would welcome your companionship. We are bound together in so many ways, Maia. Your name. My blood.”