Chapter 30: Day Thirty

"I know it is," I said. "I've been counting too."

Corwin looked at my face for a long moment.

"The term ends at midnight," he said. "You are free to leave my wing, and you owe the Crown nothing."

"Thirty days," I said. "You said thirty days."

"I did."

"You threw it at me in your bed."

"You had. It was a poorly drafted term."

I stepped in until the toes of my shoes touched his.

"Then here's my amendment," I said. "No more days. Come upstairs."

His hand came up and rested on my jaw.

It was not quite steady.

"The term also says no claim and no mark without your word," he said. "In words, Linnet. I wrote it that way and I'll keep it."

"I know what I wrote."

"Then say it upstairs, and not before cameras."

I laughed. "You sound like you drafted that too."

He took my hand and walked me through the palace at a pace just short of running.

His rooms were dark, with the curtains drawn against the sunset and one lamp lit on the table.

He locked the door and stood against it.

I crossed the carpet to him, and I did not wait to be touched.

I took hold of his shirt and pulled it out of his belt.

"Ask me what I want," I said.

"What do you want?"

"I want to take my time. For once, nobody is waiting for me anywhere."

He made a low sound in his throat.

I undid his buttons one at a time, and every one I opened, I kissed the skin under it.

He was warm. He tasted of salt and road dust and, faintly, of pine.

The scar through his eyebrow was pale in the lamplight, and I put my mouth to that as well.

"Linnet."

"Not yet."

I pushed the shirt from his shoulders and let it drop.

Then I unbuckled his belt, slowly, and he watched my hands.

I took him out, hard and heavy and hot, and closed my fist around him.

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