Rosamund
He stilled at the question.
His entire body went rigid, every muscle locking at once as though I'd pressed a blade to his throat instead of asking a question.
Slowly, he withdrew from me, the absence of him leaving a coldness that spread through my body like water filling a hollow.
He rolled onto his back beside me, his chest still rising and falling from the exertion, and stared at the ceiling.
I pressed closer to him, settling against his side, my chin resting on his shoulder. The warmth of what we'd just shared was still humming in my skin, and I wasn't ready to let it go, at least not yet.
"Nevan." I traced a finger across his collarbone. "You've been vindicated. The court knows you had nothing to do with those women. The lies, the rumours, all of it has been undone." I lifted myself onto my elbow so I could look at his face. "So why are you still hiding behind the mask?"
He didn't answer. He wasn't even looking at me.
