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Summary
He smiled again, soft. "The only petal I see is you, Klara," he murmured low in that voice, and she did not catch the sorrow in his eyes until she had swayed forward, eyes lidded, and he stopped her at arms-length with a featherlight finger on her parted lips.
It was gone as soon as it had alighted, and she forced her eyes open, forced herself to pout at him though she knew, she knew with a deep and wrenching pang she had never stood a chance with him at all.
Or: of hope, healing, and hurt, and the failed seduction of one Henry of Skalitz.
Series
- Part 3 of In Conspectu Dei
