SIGRUN
The morning light streaming through the high, arched windows of the dinner hall was entirely too bright, entirely too cheerful for the absolute disaster that was my current state of mind.
I stared down at the ceramic bowl in front of me, poking a piece of smoked trout with the tines of my heavy silver fork. The fish looked perfectly flaky, but my throat was so tight I knew a single bite would choke me.
My resolve had been set the exact moment I woke up, tangled in the heavy linen sheets of my bed.
Keep him at arm's length.
That was the mantra. That was the only rule that mattered now.
I needed to keep my walls up, before he systematically tore down every single defense I had. I had to keep reminding myself of who I actually was. I wasn't some bartered medieval princess destin
