Shark wished for Eagle’s prophetic knowledge, and Eagle envied Shark’s generosity.
And the petals of their closeness wilted.
—COLLECTED FOLKTALES
Jasminda reveled in the feel of Jack’s fingers winding through her hair as they lay in the enormous bed. “I have something for you,” he said.
“What is it?” She grinned and he beamed down at her, appearing lost for a moment. Then he shook his head as if coming out of a fog and stood, crossing the room to his discarded jacket.
Jasminda appreciated the view of his strong back and the muscles working there and lower. He turned to find her staring and flushed, his face and chest growing red.
“Am I not supposed to look?” she asked saucily.
He shook his head and returned to the bed, a thin, rectangular box in his hand. Gathering her again into his chest, he held the box out. She brushed her fingertips across dark blue velvet emblazoned with Elsira’s crest and looked up at him questioningly.
“Open it.”
Gingerly, she plucked the box from his palm and lifted the lid. A shiny gold medal winked up at her in the dim light. A five-pointed star with the profile of a man wearing a crown at its center hung from a wide blue-and-gold ribbon. Around the man’s head circled the words IN FEAST AND IN FAMINE WE SUSTAIN.
“It’s the Order of the Grainbearer. Elsira’s highest honor for service to the crown.” Jack’s voice was full of pride.
Jasminda’s heart stopped beating. “For me?”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You saved my life. This is just a token, but you deserve it.”
“But … but…”
“There’s generally a nomination process and months of paperwork and a fancy ceremony, but I didn’t want to wait for all that. I may do away with it entirely from now on. I just went into the storage room where they keep these and got one for you.”
Her mouth gaped open.
“Don’t worry. It’s official. I signed you into the registry myself.”
She snapped her jaw closed, but a minute passed before she could form words. “Thank you.”
“I suppose I should call you Dame Jasminda now.” He smiled and bowed. She laid her head on his chest again, admiring the finery of the medal. On record as having been of service to her nation. A lump grew in her throat.
Somewhere, a clock struck midnight.
“You know, it may be easier if…” Jack trailed off. Jasminda lifted her head, not liking the tone of his voice.
“If what?”
He stroked a hand across her jaw. “I don’t want them to make your life here miserable. There will be questions, speculation … gossip. About us.” Worried eyes searched her face.
The tiny light that had flickered to life in the center of her chest faltered. But she’d known. When he’d showed up at her door, she’d known. When she’d let him in, and when she’d chosen to go down this path, she knew where it would lead and where it would not.
“So what would be easier?” The question fell from her lips on a whisper. She must not have done enough to mask her feelings, for he pulled her closer, tightening his grip around her.
“If we remain discreet.” His voice wavered. That tiny wobble stole the strength from her growing hurt. It was not exactly a rejection, but the reality was clear. He could never truly be hers. He belonged to the people now, and the people were fickle masters.
“You are right,” she said to his chest, then pressed a kiss there to show she bore no ill will about the state of affairs. She did not. If her heart broke the tiniest bit, it was only because she had allowed it to grow weak and sentimental. That would never do.
She sat up, pulling herself out of the fortress of safety his arms provided. “This is no one’s business but ours. We don’t ever have to speak of it again, if you’d prefer.”
“No, that’s not what I…” He reached for her, but she pulled away, turning to sit on the edge of the bed with her back to him.
“You should probably go. You will be missed if you leave it until morning.” She wished she had something to cover herself with. There were robes in the great wardrobe hulking in the corner of the room. She’d peeked in it earlier. All she had to do was walk over there and retrieve one, but she did not trust her shaky legs.
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she pushed them back. She tried to force that same will into her legs to push her to stand, but just when she thought she’d found the strength, nimble hands enfolded her waist, sliding her across the bed. Jack turned her over until she was on her back with him straddling her, his face inches from her own.
He kissed her. She closed her eyes involuntarily and lost herself in it. Even if by some miracle she found someone to kiss again, it would never be like this.
“If you want me to tell the world, I will,” he said. “I will call for a press conference on the steps of the palace and shout your name from every roof and balcony.” He placed kisses down her jaw, pausing to nuzzle the crook of her neck and inhale deeply.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, so short now there was barely anything to hold on to, and pulled his head up so she could peer into his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I don’t want you to think that I … that I care what anyone else thinks. I just don’t want it to be harder for you than it has to be.”
“All right.” A quiet acceptance of an unavoidable fact. “What have you said about my presence here?”
He settled onto his elbows, still on top of her, and her center warmed at the press of him against her.
“You are my honored guest. You saved my life at great risk to yourself, and are welcome to stay as long as you like.” He grasped a lock of her hair between his finger and thumb. “I will erase the debt. Your taxes. I would have done it anyway.”
She shook her head and looked around the room; even in the dark its finery was visible. “I don’t want to owe you any more than I do already.”
“You owe me nothing—”
She hushed him with a finger across his lips.
“I will not allow you to lose your home,” he said around her fingers.
“I don’t intend to. I’m going to lodge my appeal in person tomorrow at the Bureau of Taxation. It’s my last day to do so, and my case is solid.”
“I know it is. I’ll have Usher, my valet, assign you a driver. You can go and get it cleared up.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, battling the sadness that kept creeping in from the corners. The clock struck the quarter hour.
“You really should go and get some sleep,” she said, smoothing a finger across his brow. “Can you discreetly get back to your rooms?”
He sighed, rising to a knee. “I can use the back passageways. There are secret corridors throughout the palace too narrow for the servants to bother with. I used to hide in them as a child.” He reached for her. “How I wish I could stay beside you the whole night.”
She did not give voice to all the things she wished that would never be.
He stood, finally, retrieving his scattered clothing and dressing. Jasminda admired each of his body parts as they were hidden from her view. When he looked at her one last time, she glimpsed a well of pain inside him she had never seen before, one that tugged at her in a new way. And it made it all the more difficult when he kissed her good-bye and walked out the door.