The afternoon sunlight filters through the high windows, but my mind is still caught in the haze of this morning. The kiss, the almost — too much, too dangerous — kiss that shattered when the knock came. I told myself I wouldn’t think about it. I told myself I wouldn’t let my heart slip into his hands so easily.
But Icarus — he is impossible to shut out.
When the servants tell me he has arranged dinner for us — alone, in one of the hidden chambers of the manor — I almost refuse. My pride whispers to stay away. My reason urges me to guard myself. Yet my feet betray me, carrying me down the lantern-lit corridors, my palms slick, my pulse unsteady.
The chamber door opens before I can knock. He stands there, dressed in black, his shirt loose at the throat, a smirk curving his mouth as thoug
