After leaving the chamber that day—when Rowan and Zalyric had finally shared something raw, unspoken and undeniably intimate—
Or probably almost intimate—
life did not simply move forward without consequence.
As the days slipped by, Rowan began to notice a hostility at his back, the weight of eyes that burned into him like a constant shadow and it wasn't just his imagination. Someone was watching him in every step and every movement.
And that simmering hostility belonged to none other than Evan.
Evan was a man carved out of discipline.
He lived by standards that were unyielding, a figure who upheld respect not only for his king but also for those whom his king deemed worthy of regard.
To him, respect was not freely given; it was earned, carefully measured.
And Rowan, in Evan's eyes, stood far outside that circle.
Rowan wasn't a confidant.
