Page 187 of The Fifth Heir

“You dropped a pen.”

“That was communication.”

The hearth brightened.

I looked at his hands.

They rested loosely between his knees. The right bore an old burn across the palm, pale against his skin. I had felt it against my waist during training.

“Did you mean what you said?” I asked.

“About what?”

“When you almost kissed me.”

His attention fixed on me.

“Yes.”

“You wanted me to choose when I wasn’t standing because you caught me.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sitting now.”

He did not move.

The room grew warmer.

“Talia.”

“I know what I’m saying.”

“You had a painful magical event earlier tonight.”

“The healer examined me. I am not injured.”

“You’re exhausted.”

“I’m tired. I’m not confused.”

His eyes moved over my face.

I set the empty cup on the table.

“I kissed Rafe.”

“I saw.”

“And Bastian.”

Torren’s expression changed slightly. “Bastian.”

“Sebastian.”

“I know who you mean.”

“I kissed him tonight.”