I wanted her. She was just two floors away from me here in my castle. And some piece of her-naïve and inexperienced-wanted me. The man who was doomed to die at her hand. I could mostly ignore that fact, now that I was used to her presence, and my intermittent lust. But I wondered if not telling her about it was a bigger betrayal than not telling her about my arrangement with her father. If she did manage her Ascension-and when she found out what that meant-then she would know the truth. That there hadn't been a moment, ever since we met, that I didn't see my death inside her eyes. I could only hope that the shame of her learning that would be absolved by a second realization: that I had loved her anyway.
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