I needed help.

“Is it okay for me to enter?” I asked, clasping my hands together. “Or should I wait out here while you inspect under the bed for stray dust bunnies?”

Hawke looked over his shoulder. “It’s not dust bunnies I’m worried about. Steps, on the other hand? Yes.”

“Oh, my gods—”

“And the Dark One will keep coming until he has what he wants,” he said, looking away. I shivered. “Your room should always be checked before you enter it.”

I folded my arms over my chest, chilled despite the fire. I watched as he circled back to the door, quietly closing it.

Hawke faced me, one hand on the hilt of a short sword, and the flipping in my chest doubled. His face was so strikingly pieced together. From the wide set of his lips, the upward slant of his eyebrows, to the shadowy hollows under his high, broad cheekbones, he could’ve been the muse for the paintings that hung in the city’s Atheneum.

“Are you all right?” Hawke asked.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Something appeared to happen to you as the Duke addressed the people.”

I made a mental note to remember exactly how observant Hawke was. “I was…” I started to say that I’d been fine, but I knew he wouldn’t believe that. “I got a little dizzy. I guess I haven’t eaten enough today.”

His intense gaze tracked over what he could see of my face, and even with the veil, I felt unbearably exposed when he looked at me like he did then. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” I asked, confused.

Hawke didn’t respond immediately. “I hate talking to the veil.”

“Oh.” Understanding rippled through me as I reached up and touched the length that hid my hair. “I imagine most people don’t enjoy it.”

“I can’t imagine you do.”

“I don’t,” I admitted and then glanced around the room as if I expected Priestess Analia to be hiding somewhere. “I mean, I’d prefer if people were able to see me.”

He tilted his head to the side. “What does it feel like?”

Air hitched in my throat. No one…no one had ever asked me that before, and while I had a lot of thoughts and feelings about the veil, I wasn’t sure how to put them into words even though I trusted Hawke.

Some things, once spoken, were given a life of their own.

I walked to one of the chairs and sat on the edge as I tried to figure out what to say. Suddenly, my brain sort of spit out the only thing that came to mind. “It feels suffocating.”

Hawke drew closer. “Then why do you wear it?”

“I didn’t realize I had a choice.” I looked up at him.

“You have a choice now.” He knelt in front of me. “It’s just you and me, walls, and a pathetically inadequate supply of furniture.”

My lips twitched.

“Do you wear your veil when you’re with Tawny?” he asked.

I shook my head no.

“Then why are you wearing it now?”

“Because…I’m allowed to be without my veil with her.”

“I was told that you were supposed to be veiled at all times, even with those approved to see you.”

He was, of course, correct.

Hawke arched a brow.

I sighed. “I don’t wear my veil when I’m in my room, and I don’t expect anyone to come in other than Tawny. And I don’t wear it then because I feel…more in control. I can make—”

“The choice not to wear it?” he finished for me.

Nodding, I was more than a little stunned that he’d nailed it.

“You have a choice now.”

“I do.” But it was hard to explain that the veil also served as a barrier. With it, I remembered what I was, and the importance of that. Without it, well, it was easy to want…to simply want.

His gaze searched the veil, and a long moment passed. He then nodded and rose slowly. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

A strange lump formed in my throat, making it impossible for me to speak. I remained where I was as he left the room, staring at the closed door once he was gone. I didn’t move. I didn’t remove the veil. Not for a long time.

Not until I no longer wanted.

The following evening, I stood outside the Duchess’s receiving room on the second floor. It was at the opposite end of the hall from the Duke’s, and I kept my back to his room. I didn’t want to see it, let alone think about it.

Two Royal Guards stood outside Jacinda’s room while Vikter waited beside me. I’d told him that morning what had really happened during the Duchess’s and Duke’s address to the people, and how I wasn’t sure if I had actually felt something or not. He suggested that I speak with the Duchess, since the Priestess was unlikely to give me any useful information, and the Duchess, depending on her mood, was more likely to speak openly.

I just hoped she was in a talkative mood.

Neither Vikter nor I spoke in the presence of the other Royal Guards, but I knew he was concerned over what I shared. About what it could mean if it was my gift evolving, or if it was my mind.

“It could just be the stress of everything that has happened,” he’d said. “It may be better to wait until you’re sure it is your gift before alerting anyone.”

I knew Vikter worried that if it was my mind, that it would somehow be held against me, but I didn’t want to wait until it happened again. I’d rather know now if it was my gift or not so I could react better.

The door opened, and one of the Royal Guards stepped out. “Her Grace will see you now.”

Vikter remained outside as planned since knowledge of my gift was supposed to be limited to the Duke and Duchess and the Temple clergy.

I broke so many rules, it was no wonder that Hawke had seemed surprised when I wouldn’t remove my veil the night before. That’s what I was thinking as I walked into the receiving room. I filed those thoughts away as I looked around.

I’d always liked this room with its ivory walls and light gray furnishings. There was something peaceful about it, and it was also warm and inviting despite there being no windows. It had to be all the dazzling chandeliers. My gaze found the Duchess seated at a small, circular table where she was drinking from a small cup. Garbed in a gown of the palest yellow, she reminded me of spring in the capital.