CAREFUL

CHAPTER 36

We agreed to be careful.

We lasted exactly one day before Roman found an excuse to walk me to breakfast, then lunch, then dinner, his hand finding mine each time as though he'd forgotten the meaning of the word discreet entirely.

"You're sitting next to me," I said.

"The other chair was drafty."

"The other chair is where you've sat for two years."

"It was always drafty."

He slid the butter dish toward my plate without looking at me.

"You haven't eaten enough."

"I've had toast."

"One piece."

"Roman." I lowered my voice. "A man who personally escorts a woman to breakfast, rearranges her food, and keeps brushing her hand is not being discreet."

"I'm being attentive."

"You're being obvious."

"I'm an Alpha. Attentiveness is part of my job."

"Is holding my hand under the table part of your job, too?"

He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Is that what's happening?"

"Roman."

"I thought that was the tablecloth."

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. Down the table, a maid glanced at us and quickly looked away.

"You're terrible at this," I whispered.

"I'm excellent at most things."

"Not this."

"No." A rare, small grin appeared. "Apparently not."

I escaped to the linen room an hour later, where I found Tessa folding the same towel for the third time.

"Don't," I said.

"Don't what?"

"Whatever that face is."

"This is my normal face."

"It's your I know something face."

"He walked you to the east wing yesterday. And the library. And the stairs." She ticked each location off on her fingers. "And he looks like someone finally told him he could stop holding his breath."

"He's been busy."

"Mira."

"He's relaxed."

"Mira Vale."

She dropped the towel.

"Did he kiss you?"

"No."

"You went red."

"It's warm in here."

"Did. He. Kiss. You?"

I covered my face with both hands.

"Yes."

Tessa shrieked, clapped a hand over her mouth, and pulled me into a hug so fierce I nearly lost my footing.

"Quiet!" I hissed.

"I'm sorry! I'm just finally!" She pulled back, her eyes shining. Then her expression turned serious. "All right. Now the bad news."

"There's bad news?"

"This house reports everything. A maid sees a hand on a waist, a groom hears a door close, and by nightfall, someone has carried the story to the council."

"Wren."

"Wren, or someone who enjoys telling her things."

"We agreed to be careful."

"He held your hand at dinner."

"Under the table."

"The kitchen staff saw."

I stared at her.

"How?"

"Mira, the kitchen staff notice everything. They have eyes, ears, and a professional interest in what happens around their employer's table."

I groaned.

Tessa folded her arms.

"Are you going to argue with me, or are you going to let me help?"

"Which one do I get?"

"Both." She picked up the towel again. "I'll clear the east stairs when I can. I'll warn you if someone's coming. But I can't cover for you two if you keep acting like the staff are furniture."

"Tessa."

Her expression softened.

"I'm happy for you. I mean that. I've never seen Roman look at anyone the way he looks at you." She paused. "I just want you to be happy and safe."

"I know."

"Good." Her grin returned. "Now tell me everything."

"No."

"I'll get it out of you."

"You won't."

"I absolutely will."

By that afternoon, Roman and I had made a plan behind a closed library door.

No seeking each other out in public.

No unnecessary touching where anyone could see.

No walking me from one room to another as though I couldn't find my own way.

Roman agreed to every rule.

Then he knocked on the library door ten minutes later, looking perfectly composed.

"Sable needs the East Wing paperwork reviewed," he said. "I thought you might want to look at it."

"Look at what?"

"The paperwork."

"I don't do paperwork."

"You might want to start."

"Roman. We just made a rule."

"It's not a romantic rule. It's a paperwork rule."

"It's the same rule."

"That's a matter of interpretation."

"You're breaking it."

"I'm bending it."

"On the first afternoon!"

He tried not to smile. He failed.

"Do you regret the kiss?"

The question caught me off guard.

"No."

"Good."

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Because I need to know."

I stepped closer.

"I don't regret it, Roman. And I won't pretend I do."

His expression softened.

"I'm not asking you to."

"Then don't make me feel like we have to hide because what happened between us was a mistake."

His face changed.

"I'm not ashamed of you. Not for a second." His voice lowered. "I just don't want to give anyone another weapon to use against you."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes. But there's a difference between protecting something and pretending it doesn't exist."

He held my gaze for a moment before reaching for my hand.

"Roman."

"There's no one here."

"There's always someone here."

"Not in this corridor."

He stepped closer. I let him.

His thumb traced my knuckles, and he opened his mouth to say something. Whatever it was, I never heard it. I laughed at the expression on his face, and he leaned toward me, his forehead almost touching mine.

"Alpha?"

We jumped apart so quickly that I knocked my shoulder against the wall.

A young council aide stood at the end of the corridor, a leather folder clutched to his chest.

"Yes?" Roman asked.

His voice had changed completely. Crisp. Formal. The voice he used when addressing trespassers or delivering orders to the guard.

"I have the council's summary for tomorrow's session."

"Fine."

"I looked for you in the study."

"I was elsewhere."

"Of course." The aide's gaze slid toward me. "Miss Vale."

"Good afternoon," I said, far too brightly. "I was just looking at the wall."

Silence.

"The wall?" the aide repeated.

"The molding. It's very old."

"I'm sure it is."

"Miss Vale was admiring the craftsmanship," Roman said smoothly. "On my recommendation."

"Of course, Alpha."

"I'll take that."

He held out his hand. The aide passed him the folder.

Roman opened it, scanned the first page upside down, and promptly turned it around.

I coughed into my fist.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"Only that Elder Wren asked whether you'd attend the evening session."

My stomach dropped.

"I'll be there," Roman replied without hesitation. "Thank you. That's all."

"Yes, Alpha."

The aide bowed, glanced once more at the wall, then at me, and left.

We waited until his footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

"The wall," Roman said.

"I panicked!"

"You told him it was old."

"You held the folder upside down!"

"I did not."

"Roman."

He glanced at the folder.

"...Briefly."

That was all it took.

I started laughing, and he followed a second later. We stood in the corridor, shoulders shaking, trying desperately to keep our laughter quiet. Eventually, I pressed my forehead against his chest to muffle the sound.

"We're terrible," I wheezed.

"We're appalling."

"Did he see anything?"

"I don't know."

The laughter faded from his face.

"Which is the problem."

I lifted my head.

He had gone serious again.

"Mira, we need to be more careful. Fewer public moments. Perhaps we should stop seeking each other out altogether for a while."

He hesitated.

"Maybe we should behave the way we did before."

Before.

The word settled between us like a stone.

"You want me to pretend nothing happened?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"I mean that if Wren discovers we're involved, she'll use it against us. She'll question your position here, your judgment, and every decision I make concerning you."

"I know."

"Then you understand why we need to be cautious."

"I understand privacy, Roman. I'm not asking you to announce our relationship to the council."

"Then what are you asking?"

"Not to be treated like something you need to erase."

His expression tightened.

"I don't want to erase you."

"But that's what it feels like when you suggest going back to the way things were."

"Mira"

"I spent weeks wondering whether I mattered to you. I kept trying to understand why you would pull me close one moment and push me away the next." My voice trembled, but I refused to look down. "I'm not going through that again just because you're frightened of what might happen if someone finds out you care about me."

He stared at me, and I saw the words land.

"I'm not ashamed of you," he said quietly.

"Then don't act like you are."

"I'm afraid."

"I know."

The admission seemed to cost him something.

I stepped closer, though I didn't reach for his hand this time.

"I'm afraid too. I know Wren could use our relationship against us. I know there are people watching me, and I know being close to you could make me more vulnerable." I took a breath. "But I'd rather face that fear with you than be pushed away in the name of keeping me safe."

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, something in his expression had changed.

"I've spent my entire life handling threats by controlling every variable," he said slowly. "I secure the boundaries, strengthen the guards, and remove every weakness I can find."

"And now?"

"Now I want something I can't protect by locking every door."

I held his gaze.

"Then learn to protect it differently."

"It's going to take time."

"I know."

"I'll probably get it wrong."

"Probably."

His mouth twitched.

"You could at least pretend to have more faith in me."

"I have faith in you. That's why I'm telling you the truth."

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he reached for my hand.

"All right," he said. "We'll protect this. We won't bury it."

Relief loosened something in my chest.

"Quietly?"

"Very quietly."

"And I don't have to walk three steps behind you?"

"That was never a serious proposal."

"Good. Because absolutely not."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

"Fair."

That night, I took the east stairs, the ones Tessa had promised to clear whenever she could.

I was halfway down when Roman appeared on the landing below.

"You're supposed to be in your room," he whispered.

"So are you."

"I had business."

"On the east stairs?"

"Important business."

"Of course."

He held out his hand.

I glanced toward the corridor, checked that we were alone, and took it.

He drew me into the shadow of the landing, his fingers closing around mine.

"We were awful today," he murmured.

"We were disgraceful."

"A wall."

"I stand by the molding."

He laughed, low and warm, and for a moment, the entire day seemed worth it.

Then his laughter faded.

He looked down at our joined hands, his thumb moving slowly across my knuckles.

"How long do you think we can keep this from Wren?"

I smiled.

"Hopefully longer than it took that aide to find us."

He didn't smile back.

"Roman?"

"If she finds out, she won't just gossip about us. She'll look for a way to make our relationship a political problem."

My smile faded.

"She already thinks I'm a problem."

"Then we can't give her more ammunition than she already has."

I studied his face, searching for the man who had laughed with me only moments earlier.

He was still there, but the Alpha had returned, calculating risks and anticipating threats.

"What aren't you telling me?" I asked.

His jaw tightened.

"I'm telling you that Wren doesn't need to prove we're together. She only needs to suspect it."

A chill crept through me.

"And if she does?"

Roman's fingers closed more firmly around mine.

"Then we find out how much she already knows."

The corridor beyond the landing remained silent.

But for the first time that day, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone might already be listening.