Chapter 9: The East Tower

The East Tower had one stair, one door and one window.

The grey guards had pushed her inside at midday, turned the key, and gone down again without a word.

Aveline had spent the afternoon walking in circles.

The room was round and bare, with a narrow bed, a washstand, a chair, and a window with a drop of eighty feet outside it.

Below it lay the river, gold in the late sun.

She did not eat the bread they left.

She did not touch the water.

Night came on slowly, and she was still pacing when the key scraped in the lock.

She spun around with the chair raised in both hands.

Torin stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"Put that down," he said.

"Get out."

"I intend to."

"You stood on that gallery," she said, and her voice shook, "and you watched them put me in here."

"Yes."

"You didn't say a word."

"No."

"Why?"

He crossed the room slowly.

"Because the Queen was watching me," he said.

"If I had shouted for you, she'd have known what you are to me."

"She'd have found a way to use it before sundown."

"What am I to you?"

He stopped in front of her.

He took the chair out of her hands, and set it down on the floor.

"Nobody gets up that stair but me," he said.

"The Queen's men can't reach this room."

"I took the key from the captain an hour ago, and my own guards stand at the bottom."

"It's the safest place in the palace."

"It's a cell."

"It is a cell with one door, and I hold the key."

"You didn't answer my question."

His grey eyes went to her mouth.

"You're the only thing in this palace I want," Torin said.

It was said so plainly that for a moment it did not seem like a confession.

Then her pulse leaped in her throat.

"You're a liar," she whispered.

"I am. About most things. Not that."

She stared up at him.

She was furious, and she was afraid, and she wanted him so badly her skin hurt.

He was twenty-eight, she was twenty-two, and he held the only key.

He turned, opened the door wide, and stood aside from it.

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