But he gave a small frown. “No.”
She could only stare at him. “Then why did you come?”
“To be with you.”
Norah’s breath faltered. These were the moments that made her want him near, that made her forget about everything else.
He stepped closer. Her hand hung at her side, and he brushed it softly with his own, testing. The warmth of his touch seeped into her skin, creeping its way up her arm and through her body. So little time they’d spent alone the past several days. Her anger had been driving her mind, almost making her forget his effect. Almost.
She didn’t pull away.
“I don’t like how things have been between us,” he said. “Tell me how to fix it.”
He wanted to fix it? But she didn’t know how. They came from completely different worlds.
“Please, Salara. Tell me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t live like this, with this violence. Or with you thinking I’m weak because I value human life.”
His eyes moved back and forth between hers. “I don’t think you’re weak.”
“But that’s what you said.”
“I was afraid.”
She stilled.
He drew closer. “I was afraid because I’d been so close to losing you.” Ever so gently, he pulled her hand up to his face, cupping her fingers against his cheek and kissing her palm. “I can’t lose you.”
In front of the world, he was cold and dark, threatening. He was the Shadow King. Impossible to love. But with her, the darkness fell away. He was Mikael. Impossible to hate.
She shook her head. “Don’t do that.”
He frowned. “Don’t do what?”
“Don’t make me stop being angry at you. I need to be angry.” If she wasn’t angry, then she would be accepting of the darkness, and she couldn’t be accepting.
A low rumble came from his chest. “Have you not been angry long enough?”
“No!” Him trivializing her emotion only brought it to the surface again. These things were serious. People’s lives were serious.
His brow bent. “Will it be forever?” His words came at barely a whisper. It wasn’t patronizing but a question steeped in longing and worry. And it disarmed her.
“Just longer” was all she could manage to get out. Except there was no longer. Any anger she’d struggled to hang on to slipped from her grasp.
“All right,” he whispered.
She let out a breath, and an ease came between them again. There was a rawness about him now, a vulnerability. And he was still so close. His warmth permeated her barriers and pulled her in. She found herself leaning in, and he dropped his head to hers.
But she put a firm hand on his chest. “No.”
He stopped. His lips were so close to hers, but they didn’t touch. Then he nodded, relenting.
“I can’t trust you,” she whispered. “It makes me afraid.”
And while she told herself she was afraid of him, it wasn’t just him. She feared herself. This wasn’t about who Mikael was. This was about who she was—something that still escaped her. Could she be who she wanted and still feel for this man?
His mouth opened to speak, but no words came. His eyes searched hers. “I’m salar. These aren’t easy decisions for me.”
His brow stitched, and she leaned back. “Really? Because they seem to come quite easily. And I’m salara. They’re my decisions too.” She paused, trying to slow the sudden rush of frustration. “You don’t rule alone.”
He quieted again.
“You have to talk to me,” she told him, “before you act. We decide together.”
He nodded again. “I can do that.”
He could do that. She softened. That wouldn’t solve all their problems, but if he talked to her…
A calm returned, and her spirits rose. She’d missed him, and to be near him again, to have gained some understanding between them, relieved her. They continued through the library.
Mikael followed her, holding her selection of books as she pulled them from the shelves.
“Do you need all these?” he asked. “You can always come back for more.”
She gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “Then I’d have to come back every day.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” He took her hand, stopping her and shifting to a more serious note between them. “I want to see you every day. I want to be near you. Every day.”
She swallowed back the words on her tongue, the words that would have said she wanted the same. Because she did. “I’m finished,” she said softly.
Mikael waved her guard back and away as they stepped out into the hall. They walked toward her sanctuary—slowly, quietly—with him at her side, carrying her books. She couldn’t deny she preferred Mikael to her army entourage.
“Your lord justice left this morning,” he said, picking back up their conversation.
Norah bit the inside of her cheek. “You keep a close eye on him.”
“His every move.”
His tone chilled her. She silently praised the Mercian council for whatever task they had for Alexander—anything to get him away from Kharav for a while. She cursed her selfishness in keeping him near. When he returned, she’d have to send him back to Mercia.
Norah glanced outside, across the courtyard, and saw the man Mikael had been speaking to earlier still standing in the parallel hall. “Is he waiting for you?”
“Yes. But he can wait a little longer.”
“You should go,” she said. “I’m sure there are many important things for you to tend to.”
“Nothing is more important than being here with you, right now.”
She couldn’t help a small smile to herself.
They reached the hall to her sanctuary, and she took her books from him.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Of course.” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against her fingers. Then he left to return to his waiting Circle.
Chapter fifty-three
Mikael was waiting in the dining room when Norah arrived. Instead of at the end of the table opposite her, his plate and chalice sat to the left of her own. She raised a brow and bit back her smile. She liked that he threw out rules and proprieties to be near to her.
He pulled her chair out for her and waited.
Norah couldn’t hold the hint of a smile any longer. “Thank you,” she said as she took her seat.
Mikael took his own chair and set to work moving food to their plates from a large center platter.
“The king plays the servant this evening?” she asked.
“Every evening if you want, so long as you’re here.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Does it win me favor?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted with a wry smile. But then her smile fell, and her seriousness returned. “But it’s not what I want, you know.”
His face grew solemn. “I know.” He poured wine into their chalices and raised his to his lips but didn’t drink. He set it back down. “I’ll continue to disappoint you, Salara. We’re very different, you and I.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Or maybe we’re two imperfect people in an imperfect world, fighting for the good of our kingdoms.”