Theron staggered back.
To buy herself back.
The words struck deeper than anything else she had said that morning.
He had wanted to convince her to go with him. He had expected resistance, of course, but not this—not that she would look at him as though he had truly reduced her to something that could be owned, priced, and repaid.
He wanted to tell her once more that she was not a slave.
He wanted to tell her that he had never seen her that way.
But the truth was, she believed otherwise. She believed he had looked at her, judged her, and decided she was worth no more than a thousand ducats.
And in that instant, Theron felt something inside him go still.
He had lost her. Really lost her.
Aveline waited, her eyes wide and searching his face for an answer.
Theron forced himself to nod.
The moment he did, her whole face changed.
