“What did he do to you?” Hawke asked, his voice too soft.

Suffocating shame crept up my throat, tasting acidic. “Why do you even care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, and again, he sounded unbelievably sincere.

My head turned before I realized what I was doing. He’d sat back, hands curled around the arms of the wingback chair. “You don’t know me—”

“I bet I know you better than most.”

Heat creeped into my cheeks. “That doesn’t mean you know me, Hawke. Not enough to care.”

“I know you’re not like the other members of the Court.”

“I’m not a member of the Court,” I pointed out.

“You’re the Maiden. You’re viewed as a child of the gods by the commoners. They see you higher than an Ascended, but I know you’re compassionate. That night at the Red Pearl, when we talked about death, you genuinely felt sympathy for any losses I’d experienced. It wasn’t a forced nicety.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a good judge of people’s words,” he remarked. “You wouldn’t speak out of fear of being discovered until I referred to Tawny as your maid. You defended her at the risk of exposing yourself.” He paused. “And I saw you.”

“Saw what?”

He tipped forward again, lowering his voice. “I saw you during the City Council. You didn’t agree with the Duke and Duchess. I couldn’t see your face, but I could tell you were uncomfortable. You felt bad for that family.”

“So did Tawny.”

“No offense to your friend, but she looked half-asleep throughout most of that. I doubt she even knew what was going on.”

I couldn’t exactly argue that point, but what he had seen was me briefly losing control of my gift. However, that didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t okay with what was happening to the Tulis family.

“And you know how to fight—and fight well. Not only that, you’re obviously brave. There are many men—trained men— who wouldn’t go out on the Rise during a Craven attack if they didn’t have to. The Ascended could’ve gone out there, and they’d have a higher chance of surviving, yet they didn’t. You did.”

I shook my head. “Those things are just traits. They don’t mean you know me well enough to care about what does and doesn’t happen to me.”

His eyes fixed on mine. “Would you care what happens to me?”

“Well, yes.” My brows knitted in a frown. “I would—”

“But you don’t know me.”

I snapped my mouth shut. Dammit.

“You’re a decent person, Princess.” He sat back. “That’s why you care.”

“And you’re not a decent person?”

Hawke lowered his gaze. “I’m many things. Decent is rarely one of them.”

I had no idea how to respond to that little bit of honesty.

“You’re not going to tell me what the Duke did, are you?” He sighed, his back bowing slightly in the chair. “You know, I’ll find out one way or another.”

I almost laughed. I was confident that was one thing no one would ever speak about. “If you think so.”

“I know so,” he replied, and a heartbeat passed. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

His gaze met mine again, and I felt a hitch in my chest. I couldn’t look away. I felt…ensnared. “How it feels like I’ve known you longer. You feel that, too.”

I wanted to deny it, but he was right, and it was weird. I said none of that because I didn’t want to acknowledge it. Doing so felt like a start down a road I couldn’t travel. Knowing that caused a deep, twisting sensation in my chest, and I didn’t want to acknowledge that either.

Because it felt a lot like disappointment. And didn’t that mean I’d already begun to travel that road? I broke eye contact, my gaze falling to my hands.

“Why were you on the Rise?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Your motivation wasn’t. At least, tell me that. Tell me what drove you to go up there to fight them.”

Easing open my fingers, I slipped two of them under the sleeve of my right arm. They skimmed my skin until the tips brushed over two jagged tears. There were others, along my stomach and my thighs.

It would be easy to lie, to come up with any number of reasons, but I wasn’t sure if there was any harm in the truth. Was three instead of two knowing the truth somehow earth-shattering? I didn’t think it was.

“The scar on my face. Do you know how I got it?”

“Your family was attacked by some Craven when you were a child,” he answered. “Vikter…”

“He filled you in?” A faint, tired smile pulled at my lips. “It’s not the only scar.” When he said nothing, I slipped my hand out from under my sleeve. “When I was six, my parents decided to leave the capital for Niel Valley. They wanted a much quieter life, or so I’m told. I don’t remember much from the trip other than my mother and father being incredibly tense throughout the whole thing. Ian and I were young and didn’t know a lot about the Craven, so we weren’t afraid of being out there or stopping at one of the smaller villages—a place I was told later hadn’t seen a Craven attack in decades. There was just a short wall, like most of the smaller towns, and we were staying at the inn only for one night. The place smelled like cinnamon and cloves. I remember that.”

I closed my eyes. “They came at night, in the mist. There was no time once they appeared. My father…he went out onto the street to try and fend them off while my mother hid us, but they came through the door and the windows before she could even step outside.” The memory of my mother’s screams forced my eyes open. I swallowed. “A woman—someone who was staying at the inn—was able to grab Ian and pull him into this hidden room, but I hadn’t wanted to leave my mom and it just…” Dark and disjointed flashes of the night attempted to piece themselves together. Blood on the floor, the walls, running down my mother’s arms. Losing my grip on her slippery hand, and then grabbing hands and snapping teeth. The claws… And then the soul-crushing, fiery pain until, finally, nothing. “I woke up days later, back in the capital. Queen Ileana was by my side. She told me what had happened. That our parents were gone.”