Page 173 of Bone Year

“So am I.”

The music shifts, the strings pulling toward a long low note before they pick the rhythm back up, and on the lull he draws me a fraction closer, enough that the front of my dress brushes the line of his coat.

“You’re really good at this,” I murmur.

“At what?”

“At having a heist conversation while you dance.”

“I’m a man of many talents, Rose.”

“Apparently.”

He spins me, and on the way around he allows himself the smallest possible smile. It lasts a second, gone by the time we finish the turn. But I see it, and he knows I saw it, and I will have to do something about how the seeing of it has made the room go warm.

“Why are you helping me?”

“I gave you my word.”

“That’s not why.”

He’s quiet long enough that I think he won’t answer.

“No,” he says, “it’s not.”

The music turns. The room turns. A couple I don’t recognize passes too close, and Draven adjusts our line without thinking, his hand spreading wider against my back to guide me away from them.

“You’ve said six words to me in the last eight weeks. Why?” I ask.

He sighs, “It’s complicated.”

He’s quiet for a long beat. The music carries us through it. When he answers, his voice has gone lower than the music, and I have to hold very still to catch every word.

“I can’t distract you with this tonight. Let’s not forget how worried you were about the angel the second we made it back,” he says, and I lean back to search his face.

“Are you jealous?” I ask, and he pulls me to him again so I can’t see the expression on his face.

“You would know if I was jealous.”

“Then what is it? What’s complicated?” I press. He’s quiet, and it only annoys me further. “You almost kissed me. I hated you, and then I thought things changed in Holloweir. I thought you showed me a little bit of the real you, I shared things with you too, and then we come back to the academy, and you can’t be bothered to act like you know me. What the fuck, Draven?”

“I’m the heir to a throne that would never…” He takes a deep steadying breath. “You’re right. These last weeks felt like a stupid amount of time to spend pretending I wasn’t going to fail at staying away from you. I spent it anyway. Forgive me.”

“I’ll take it under consideration,” I say, and he chuckles, but I have a feeling that’s not what he was going to say. He’s avoiding something.

“Please do, Rose.”

The corner of his mouth moves. Restraint settles into the line of his jaw like it always does, and I am dancing with the version of him I have come to know, the one who controls every muscle of his face except the one that gives him away.

“By the way,” he says, and the change in his voice makes me look up.

“By the way what?”

“You remember what I said earlier this year about what I’d do if he touched you again?”

I go still in his arms.

“Draven.”