"I said, no need," she repeated, her voice firm.
She opened her fan again, resuming the motion, creating a physical barrier of moving air between them. "Playing the skiver for years. Getting injured in secret. Attracting the full force of the Royal Guards for a 'fugitive' hunt. Hiding evidence."
She looked him in the eye. "You must be involved in something dangerous. Something treasonous, perhaps. Or something that threatens the Crown."
She turned her head to look out the small gap in the curtains at the passing city streets. "I am just a woman who wants to live a good life. I want to manage the household. I want to eat honey cakes. I want to be safe."
She looked back at him. "I don't want your secrets, Derek. Secrets get people killed. I have enough trouble with my sister. I do not need the King's trouble as well."
Derek looked hurt. The rejection stung more than he expected. He had offered her his trust, the most valuable thing he possessed, and she had pushed it away.
