Isadora cleared her throat. If there was any time to tell Max how she felt, it was now. But the words felt bigger than her.
“Well,” she said, “I suppose there’s a few things we need to discuss.”
“Indeed.”
Another pause. “Ah, I meant to thank you.”
“For?”
“You were a perfect gentleman. You kept me safe and were . . . my friend. I needed that. I-I needed someone on my side after—”
She gestured to the burnt wood around them.
Max frowned and looked away. “What do you want, then?”
“What do I want?”
“What will you do now? What is next for Isadora Sin—Spence?”
She paused. The question had hovered on the edge of her mind for days now, but she hadn’t really acknowledged it. So much lay behind it. Things she hadn’t wanted to face yet. Like the fact that she felt desperately ill at the thought of not seeing him every day. Of not feeling his firm touch.
The fact that she bloody loved the man.
“The Head of Education reached out to me,” she said. “They’re thinking that a Watcher who can see personality traits in witches would be a good qualifier for admission. Identify quality students they can start preparing to serve in the Network, instead of the ramshackle way they find Council Members now. Charles wisely wants to start from the ground up in rebuilding the Network, emphasizing competent Council Members.”
“Sounds perfectly boring.”
“I know.” She grinned. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
He hesitated, brow furrowed, then nodded. “After all this war? Yes, it is.”
“But that’s not what you really asked me. You asked me what I wanted. I want a cottage in Letum Wood.” She drew in a deep breath, then let her shoulders fall. “Close to Sanna and Mam. I want a job that makes a difference for the Network, and I want a house full of the teacups that Mam and I paint together. Then, maybe, it will feel like our lives haven’t totally ended. As if . . . Daid could still be with us.”
And I want you in all of it.
“What about you?” she asked instead. “What does the great Ambassador Maximillion Sinclair desire?”
A bird wheeling by interrupted the long silence.
Max’s brow furrowed. “Peace.”
“You have that now. The new plan is—”
“Are you going to leave?”
“Leave?”
“Are you . . . do you want something else?”
“What do you—”
“The good gods, Isadora!” he cried. “You know what I mean. Do you want to remain handfasted or not?” He paused, heartbeat visible in his throat. His voice became husky. “Because if you want to go, I won’t stop Charles from granting the annulment. But if . . .”
The words trailed away, leaving Isadora stunned. She stared at him, hardly able to comprehend.
“But if?” she whispered.
His nostrils flared. He stepped closer to her, grabbing her arm in a surprisingly gentle grasp for all the passion in his face.
“But if you didn’t want to go. If you wanted to stay. With me. Then . . . I believe we could build something together. Something . . . peaceful and real and . . . not empty and cold.”
She inhaled, her nostrils thick with the heady scent of vetiver.
Max drew her so close she felt the soft caress of his breath on her face like a piece of velvet.
She swallowed hard. “In the South, when I asked you whether you were afraid of me after Carcere, you said yes, but not for the reason I thought. What was it, then?”
His expression softened. “I thought I had lost you,” he whispered. “That I couldn’t protect you, and it almost destroyed me. It was then that I realized the depth of my feelings, and that frightened me.”
Her breath caught. “Do you really want more, Max? Can you handle me being near you every moment?”
His eyes darkened. His hands tightened around her waist.
“I crave it, Isadora. Like a dying man. I . . . I don’t want you to go. Will you stay? Will you endure a man as insufferable, arrogant, and terrified as I am?”
Isadora pressed her palm against his pounding heart.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want you, Max. I believe I’ve loved you since we first met.”
His lips claimed hers, his arms tightening around her. No magic had swept through her so thoroughly, with such ravenous power, as his touch.
Isadora slipped under his power willingly, overwhelmed with the knowledge that she’d never have to leave it again.