I fixed my gaze on Freya, struggling to piece everything together. I knew better than to expect any honest answers from Hadrian—it simply wasn’t his way. The truth, if it existed, would have to be gathered from fragments, like shards of a shattered mirror. Judging by what little I could decipher, Hadrian had brought me to his bedroom out of some inexplicable pang of guilt after his sister’s so-called prank. He had undressed me but at least left me clothed in his shirt, refrained from ...