Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 26: I Trust You

"A mole?" Isaac repeated.

Camille nodded, spreading mustard over the bread. "One of his men overheard Eris's footman gossiping in a pub. Apparently, Eris is convinced that someone within our group is working against us. Undermining us from the inside." She added pickled beets. "Eris sounded really pleased about it."

"And what do you think?" Isaac asked.

He flexed his hand, revealing that half-moon scar. Camille reached for the cheese. "I think I need more information."

Isaac studied her. "But you think Dartmouth could be right." When she didn't say anything, he blew out a breath. "Then why are you telling me?"

"Because I trust you," Camille said.

Isaac stared down at his scar. "Then who do you think...?"

"I don't know," Camille said. "But I won't tell the others about the tunnel until we get to Helos Castle. It's not worth the risk."

She arranged the cheese on the bread. Isaac pulled the chicken towards him, chopping it into smaller slices. His hand moved so fast that it was a blur; even now, he moved with a soldier's efficiency.

"You trust me," Isaac repeated.

She nodded. "Always."

"Maybe you shouldn't," Isaac said.

His eyes were shadowed. He set down the knife, wiping his hands on a dish cloth. A lump rose in Camille's throat.

She drifted closer. "It's like you said to me, Isaac. I know who you are."

His gaze was wary. "Cami..."

"Why didn't you come to my room that night?"

The words were out before Camille could stop herself from saying them. It was a question that plagued her. She considered herself a good judge of character, but perhaps Isaac was like a painting: the closer you got to it, the less sense it made.

His face shuttered. "I already told you. I can't—"

"Be with me," Camille finished. "So you've said." She took another step. "Then why are you looking at me like that?"

Isaac's face was hunted. "Like what?"

"Like you want to eat me."

Camille held his gaze. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she thought of the hammers in her father's forge, striking metal until sparks flew. It was one of the boldest things she'd ever said to anyone. Isaac's face would have been priceless if she wasn't so damned nervous.

Isaac's throat bobbed. "Cami..."

Slowly, Camille pulled down the shoulder of her dress. Isaac's eyes followed the movement, and his hand tightened against the counter.

"Stop that," Isaac said, his voice low.

She pulled down the other one, pushing the garment down until it hardly covered the swell of her chest. Isaac's gaze was liquid fire.

"Camille." His voice was hoarse. "Stop it."

Her fingers worked at the stays. "Not until you tell me what's really going on."

"I can't!" Isaac protested. "I— Gods above." The dress fell to the floor, leaving her just in a slip. His gaze shot to the ceiling. "Put your clothes back on."

Camille took a step. "Tell me the truth."

He closed his eyes. "Don't come any closer. I mean it."

"Are you worried that we'll ruin our friendship? Is that it?"

"Ruin our friendship." Isaac laughed, but the sound was flat. "That's funny."

Her pulse raced. "Why?"

Isaac pinned her with his gaze. "Because I don't want you to be my friend, Camille. I don't want to sit there and watch you flirt with other men." His chest pumped up and down. "You know what I thought today, when I saw you with Dartmouth? I realized I was so fucking jealous that I couldn't stand to watch the two of you together. So, no. I don't want to be your friend. Being your friend was impossible from the moment that I met you."

Camille stared up at him. Isaac's breath was ragged, his pupils blown out. He was pressing himself back into the counter as if he was desperate to put some space between them. She shook her head.

"But then why..."

She couldn't even finish the sentence. Why don't you want to kiss me? Why won't you look at me? Why won't you let me in?

Isaac's jaw clenched. "Tell me this, at least. Did you kiss him?"

Surprise smacked her in the face. "What?"

"Dartmouth." Isaac said the word like it tasted metallic. "Did you kiss him?"

Camille stared. "Why would you think that?"

Isaac looked away. "He wasn't wearing a shirt when you came back in."

It took Camille a moment to recall what Isaac was talking about. Dartmouth. No shirt. Oh, right; Dartmouth had spilled sherry on his shirt, hadn't he? She remembered him cursing as he tried to dab the stain out. He'd hung it out the window to dry. That had been after he'd told her about the mole. She'd hardly been paying attention.

"Isaac," Camille said, shaking her head. "He spilled wine on his shirt. That's why he took it off." She raised a hand to his chest. "And anyway, the whole thing is ridiculous."

His heart hammered beneath her fingers. "And why's that?"

"Because I only want you," Camille whispered. "I've only ever wanted you."

His throat moved. "Camille..."

Isaac rested his forehead against hers. His warm breath fanned her face, and she shivered slightly. A pulse pounded between them. Her own? His? Impossible to say. She wanted to climb inside of him, to feel his mouth moving against her own. And he'd let her, Camille realized, looking up at his hungry eyes; consequences be damned, Isaac would let her. He was giving her the choice.

She closed her eyes.

She thought of Isaac kissing Elsie in the library, Isaac kissing Anna by the lake, the restless night she'd spent waiting for him in her room. How many times, Camille thought, a lump in her throat, would Isaac have to break her heart before her body understood that it wasn't worth the pain? How many more times would he have to disappoint her?

And yet.

And yet.

Her hand fisted in his shirt. "Isaac, I—"

The door opened.

Camille sprang back, her heart racing. Isaac was a blur; one moment, he was standing behind her, and the next, he was in front of her with a knife out.

Anna stepped through the door.

Isaac swore, lowering his knife. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Cidarius. Your sandwiches are coming."

"It's not that," Anna said. "We got a—" Her eyes landed on Camille. "Why aren't you wearing any clothes? Actually, wait." She held up a hand. "Don't answer that. I don't want to know. Here."

She thrust a letter towards them. Isaac reached for it first, leaning closer to the candle. His mouth thinned into a flat line.

"What is it?" Camille asked.

"It's from Isolde," Isaac said, glancing up from the letter. "She and Julian took a risky meeting. Halson found them."

Camille's stomach plunged. "Stars. Are they alright?"

Isaac and Anna exchanged a look. It was the sort of look that Camille had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks, and she gripped the counter for support. The room spun slightly. No, she thought desperately. No.

"Julian's missing," Isaac said. "Nobody's heard from him in two weeks."