"Henry…" She stepped forward.
He stepped back. "This is hard enough as it is, Livia... I want you to be my queen. There is no doubt of that. None." His hands curled at his sides. "But I cannot handle the way you looked at me last night."
"So… You want me to leave?" she asked.
"No. No. But I will not keep you trapped to marry me," Henry said and walked up to her.
Livia thought he might touch her properly. Pull her into him. Demand that she look at him again and understand what he was trying to do.
Instead, he bent and pressed a kiss to her hair, cruel in its tenderness. Then he turned and started towards the cabin door.
"No," Livia said.
The word was barely louder than the river against the hull, but it stopped him. Henry stood with his back to her.
His shoulders were rigid beneath his cloak, and even in the dim lantern light, she could see the effort it took for him not to turn immediately. Walking away from Livia Valenti required more strength than governing a kingdom.
