So was Alexander.
She tried to avoid him, but his gaze caught hers. She couldn’t escape. There was a desperation in the storms of his eyes. And something else. But she couldn’t think about that right now. She took her place at the head of the table, but she didn’t sit. This wouldn’t take long, and she couldn’t bear to be there any longer than she needed to.
Norah swallowed, forcing an even tone. “As you’re all aware, a new vision has come.”
The council cast approving eyes on Alexander, clearly already feeling victorious over the Shadow King. Norah didn’t. She wasn’t sure if she could get the rest of the words out. “As queen, I can’t see a clearer path than the one with Aleon. I’ve written to King Phillip, accepting his proposal of marriage, to continue the strong alliance between Mercia and Aleon.”
The councilmen grinned and clapped, nodding in agreement and triumph. All except for Alexander.
“I’ll leave in a week’s time.” She had more to add, but she couldn’t speak it through the tears that threatened. She couldn’t let them see her cry. “If you’ll excuse me, councilmen,” she said shakily. She turned and left before they could answer, stepping out into the hall and trying to catch her breath.
“Norah,” her grandmother called from behind her.
But she couldn’t face her. She couldn’t face anyone. She hurried down the pillared walk and through the great hall, with only the sound of the captain’s steps behind her. Of course he would follow.
When she reached the stairs leading up to her chamber, she paused, looking back. Catherine hadn’t come after her. She glanced at Caspian, frustrated. There would be no getting rid of him. She turned and took a separate small hall toward a side drawing room. She wanted to be alone, as alone as she could be, and perhaps no one would look for her there.
The chill of the room would have normally pushed her from staying long, but she welcomed it now. It helped her stave off the tears that threatened. She’d do whatever was needed to help her kingdom and her people, but that didn’t mean she’d resolved her emotion.
Norah stood by the window, looking out over the reach of the isle. The room had a view of the small sparring field on the west side, where she had tested swords with Alexander. Her mind moved to him. As if on cue, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see him.
His presence forced more feelings that she was trying so hard to keep back. She turned to the window again, focusing on the sparring field outside and the men practicing on it.
Alexander drew close beside her. “Norah,” he said softly. He waited until she looked at him. His face was etched in sadness, and it unleashed her own.
She closed her eyes against the overwhelming wave of emotion. Eternity spun around them in the silence.
“Norah,” he said again, and she opened her eyes to him. “That night at the tree… it was the night before your father took you. It was the last time I saw you, and it’s haunted me since. Had I known…”
He stopped himself and pushed out a long breath between his teeth.
Her eyes searched his. “What would you have done differently had you known?”
But he didn’t answer.
She nodded. Nothing. She needed to accept this was what they were. She moved to leave, but he caught her hand.
“Norah.”
His touch pulsed a warmth through her, and she stopped. Her eyes dropped to where his hand wrapped around her wrist. He loosened his hold but didn’t let her go.
They stood as if they each feared the reaction of the other.
Alexander stepped closer. His fingers relaxed around her wrist, and ever so softly he grazed her palm as he ran his hand down over hers. His caress prickled her skin as he entwined his fingers between hers.
“Did you lie to me?” she whispered.
His breath clipped.
She lifted her eyes to his. “Did you lie when you said you didn’t love me?”
His lips parted, but there were no words. She wanted to beg him to tell her he lied.
He leaned even closer as he lowered his head, with only a breath between them. If she raised her chin, their lips would meet. Her body betrayed her, rolling her upward.
“Norah,” he breathed. “I—”
A tap on the doorframe by the captain broke the moment. She had forgotten he was there, and a flush came to her cheeks. But she didn’t have time to mull over it. Someone was coming.
Alexander’s jaw tightened as he pushed out a long breath. They couldn’t be found like this. He pulled his hand from hers and stepped back, but their eyes stayed on each other’s.
Catherine reached the room, drawing Norah’s gaze as she entered. The woman stopped when she saw them. “Norah,” she said. Her tone was stiff, a warning.
Norah glanced back up at Alexander. The words that she desperately needed to hear from him, they wouldn’t come now. Perhaps it was better they were left unsaid. They would either further break her or make it that much harder to do what she must. Either way, no good would come of them. She swallowed back her need and moved around him to leave. She couldn’t look at her grandmother as she stepped past her and out into the hall.
“Norah,” Catherine said, but she didn’t stop.
Caspian stood, waiting. He’d been the one to alert them. Had he seen them? She averted her eyes, heat creeping back to her cheeks, and quickened her pace toward her chamber as he fell in step behind her.
“Norah,” Catherine called from behind.
She didn’t want to hear whatever her grandmother had to say. She didn’t want the judgment, the chastisement. She couldn’t bear it on top of everything else.
“Norah,” Catherine called again.
She paused.
Catherine caught up to her. Her eyes were shadowed in a cloud of sorrow that tempered her icy fire. “Norah, you mustn’t make it harder than it already is. You’re so close, child. Don’t let yourself be distracted.”
Norah let out a breath of disbelief. “Distracted?” The bitterness lay thick on her tongue. She couldn’t hold herself back any longer. “No! I have agreed to everything that’s been asked of me, everything thrust upon me. I wear a crown I don’t want, I’ll marry a man I don’t know, and I’ll go to war with an enemy for a cause I don’t fully understand. And now you tell me to feel nothing?” She shook her head. “I won’t pretend I don’t. I can’t.”
“Norah! You’ll watch your words in these halls!” Catherine shushed her as she glanced around them.
“Or what?” she snapped. With a glance of finality, Norah turned and strode back to her chamber.
Alexander looked out from the window of his chamber at the torchlit square down below. The alcohol stung his throat as he took another drink from his chalice. He could still feel the warmth of her hand in his, the way their wrists had touched, the brush of their arms as he had stepped closer. The nearness of her lingered on his skin, and her breath on his lips. She was so close, and yet beyond his reach, as she had always been.
She had asked him if he had lied. He’d hoped himself wiser and stronger now, solid in his decision that what he’d done was best for Mercia, best for Norah. The truth was, if faced with that decision now, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to make the same choice. The heartbreak in her eyes when he had left her at the tree—it had haunted him the last three years. Now to see it all over again, and to lose her again, he didn’t think he could bear it. The pain twisted inside him—not the dull ache of wanting, but the kind of pain that makes a man fade to nothing.