“Okay,” said Rune, who hugged herself.
She was shivering, he realized. Of course she was. It was freezing in here and she was standing in her underwear.
You idiot. He retrieved a woolen blanket from a chest against the wall. It was a blanket his mother had used to keep herself warm while working late on cold winter nights. Returning to Rune, he flung it over her shoulders.
“Just one more measurement and I’ll be done.”
She nodded. As he bent down, pressing the end of the tape to the floor next to her heel, his gaze slid over her smooth legs, checking for any silvery marks on the skin, just as he’d done with the rest of her body. But there was nothing. Her legs were so perfect, Gideon had trouble tearing his eyes away from them.
He’d found no hint of any casting scars. Frankly, that she would strip down and stand before him this whole time, for his perusal, seemed proof she had none.
Perhaps he’d been wrong. Maybe Rune Winters wasn’t the Moth.
“Stand on this for a second.”
When she stepped on the tape end, he pulled it straight to the top of her head, holding it taut, and noted her height. She was a whole foot shorter than him.
As he wrote the last measurement down in his notebook, he heard her move toward the shelves.
“Are these …”
He turned to find her cocooned in the woolen blanket, which fell to the top of her thighs. She seemed perfectly unbothered by his attention as she peered at his mother’s old notebooks. As if standing half-naked in the same room as him was the most natural thing in the world.
Gideon swallowed, trying to stop his gaze from raking down her legs.
“My mother’s sketchbooks,” he said, loosening the collar of his shirt. “She kept all of her designs in them.”
“Your mother’s …” Rune jerked her face toward him, wild-eyed. “May I?”
“Go ahead.”
The smile that bloomed across her face did something strange to his insides.
Rune scooped every book from the shelf and carried them to the worktable, where she dropped them in a pile and sat down on a stool.
Awe softened her face as she drank in the images, reverently turning the pages. She looked almost … innocent. Gideon brought the lamp over to the table so she could see better.
He’d been careful not to touch her today, remembering his brother’s words in the boxing ring. Remembering who she was. Who he was.
You are beneath her.
Gideon picked up a stool and set it down on the other side of the table, where he planted himself.
He immediately realized his mistake.
From here, he had a perfect view of the low scoop of her bralette, the delicate lace leaving little to the imagination. He had just measured her bust, so why it suddenly mattered, he wasn’t sure. He kept his gaze on the line of her throat instead.
If they were truly courting, though …
If they were together …
He shot his thoughts dead. Didn’t you learn your lesson from the first witch who drew you in?
He and Rune would never be together. If Rune was the Moth, this courtship—if he could even call it that—ended with Gideon arresting her and Rune going to the purge. And if she wasn’t the Moth, he’d step aside and hope his brother finally worked up the courage to go after what he wanted.
And that was the way it should be.
When she caught him staring, Gideon looked away too late. Their gazes snagged.
Slowly, Rune closed the sketchbook she was hunched over and rose from the stool.
“I guess I should return this.” Walking around the table, she let the blanket fall from her shoulders, holding it out to him. When he took it, she hoisted herself onto the table directly beside him, letting her lovely legs dangle over the edge.
Gideon fought to keep his eyes on her face, when all he wanted to do was let them drop.
Picking up the notebook with her measurements, Rune flipped to the dress he’d designed for her. Her fingers traced the lines of his sketch the same way her eyes had traced his mother’s designs.
He’d pleased her. It was written clear across her face.
He didn’t like what this knowledge did to him. Warming him through. Thawing his icy heart.
It shouldn’t feel this good to make her happy.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” she said, touching her fingertip to the uppermost button of his shirt. “I have a luncheon at noon, but after that … There’s a quiet beach near Wintersea House where I ride sometimes. Do you want to join me?”
“Can’t,” he managed, drawing the blanket into his lap. “I have to work today.”
She ducked her chin, disappointed. Not wanting it to seem like he was rejecting her, he quickly added, “Depending on how this evening’s transfer goes, I might get off early. I could meet you afterward.”
Her attention shot back to his face. “This evening’s transfer?”
He nodded. “Laila and I are transferring a witch to the palace prison.”
Rune lowered her gaze. “Is it far? The place you have to bring her from, I mean.” She slowly unfastened the button of his shirt. He had the urge to pull her down into his lap.
Focus, you idiot.
“Not too far. She’s being held at the old mine near Seldom Harbor.”
“I see.” Rune’s lips pressed into a pout as her fingers dropped to the next button. “There’s a masked ball at the Creeds’ tonight. You could meet me there afterward.”
Gideon struggled to keep his hands to himself. The wool of the blanket itched against his palms.
“I’ll try my best.”
Her mouth curved to the side as she released the button without undoing it. Before pushing off the table, though, she leaned in toward him and the bridge of her nose grazed his cheekbone.
“Thank you for the dress, Gideon.”
His name on her lips sent a tremor through him. His hands clenched. He wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.
“My pleasure,” he murmured.
When she pulled away and turned to get dressed, he decided against watching her shimmy back into her trousers, choosing to tidy up instead.
TWENTY
RUNE
AFTER APPEARING BRIEFLY AT Charlotte’s luncheon, Rune raced back to Wintersea House, grinning the entire way. Not even the gray clouds on the horizon could dampen her mood.
It had been so easy! Rune couldn’t believe how quickly Gideon had given up Seraphine’s whereabouts. She’d had to get nearly naked, but still.
Worth it.
Gideon, she decided, was the suitor she’d accept.
It was only as she burst through the doors of her bedroom and quickly started changing that she recalled what he’d said about the youngest witch queen.
Cressida would never have let me work for you.
Her fingers slowed on the laces of her riding trousers.
The night of that party, I was being punished.
He hadn’t elaborated. And Rune had no way of knowing what the truth was. Perhaps he was being punished for some truly heinous deed. Or perhaps he was lying.
But Rune remembered the harrowed look in his eyes. The way he’d stepped sharply away at her approach, as if he thought, for a moment, that she was Cressida herself. And he was afraid.
Cress was like that: pretty from a distance, tempting you closer … It was only after she’d reeled you in that she revealed her true nature. But by then, it was too late. She was already eating you alive.
Rune shivered.
But there were two sides to every story. And since Cressida was dead and couldn’t tell hers, it was unfair to take Gideon at his word.
She banished all thought of him and finished dressing.
Pulling on a hooded sweater, she wondered if she should send a message to Verity. One of her ships was due to leave at dawn, and if she was successful tonight, she intended to put Seraphine on it. It would mean she wouldn’t make it to the Creeds’ party tonight. And if she didn’t, she would need Verity and Alex to come up with an alibi for her.
But to put that in a message risked the information falling into the wrong hands. So, she decided against it and rode straight for Seldom Harbor.
TWENTY-ONE
GIDEON