David shrugged. "I wouldn't know what other word to use. I don't even understand them myself. I cannot fathom them, honestly. I can only assume my father left them for me to find… but I have never… I don't know these things, Zara. You must believe me, the rumors of my birth, of my being raised in sorcery, they are not true! And yet they persist as if they are weeds in a garden—"
"David, it's fine. I believe you. I'm sure there's a logical explanation."
He huffed and gave me a look that said he disagreed, but then he shook his head. "I wish… well, perhaps when we are married. When I cannot be faulted for beind led purely by my… er, heart. When you are Queen I will show you—when you can't leave me," he said, forcing an insincere smile.
I hated that he would even joke about that. He usually showed so much confidence and self-assurance… it was hard to see him doubt himself like that.
