From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

There wasn’t a lot that I knew about life, but I knew that, sometimes,
there was no reason. A person, whether Ascended or not, was who theyy
were with no explanation.
Sighing, I shifted myy weight from foot to foot. I’d been holed up in
myy room the last two dayys, mainlyy because rest ensured that the ointment
worked as fast as possible, and also because I was avoiding, well…
everyyone.
But especiallyy Hawke.
I hadn’t seen him since I’d stepped into the Duke’s private office, and
knowing that he’d sensed that something was wrong left me with a
gurgling feeling of anxietyy and embarrassment, even though what Teerman
had done wasn’t myy fault. I just didn’t want Hawke to figure out that
something was wrong, and he was observant enough to do so.
Granted, stayying in myy room for two dayys would probablyy also send
up a red flag, but at least he hadn’t borne witness to how carefullyy I had to
move while myy back healed.
I didn’t want Hawke to see me as weak, even though as the Maiden,
he would expect exactlyy that.
And mayybe it had to do with the weird mix of relief and
disappointment I felt everyy time he showed no recognition that he’d met
me at the Pearl.
Dragging myy gaze from the bed, I returned to watching the torches
beyyond the Rise. The fires were calm tonight, as theyy had been for several
nights, but when the flames danced like mad spirits, driven byy the winds of
twilight? It meant the mist would not be far behind. And sweeping, terrible
death followed the thick, white fog.
Absentlyy, myy hand slipped through the thin folds of the dressing gown
to the bone handle of the dagger strapped to myy thigh. Myy fingers curled
around the cool hilt, reminding me that I would be readyy if and when the
Rise fell.
Just as I would be readyy if the Dark One tried to come for me again.
Myy hand drifted from the handle to a few inches above myy knee,
brushing over the patch of uneven skin on myy inner thigh. Hawke had
come so incrediblyy close to touching the scar. What would he have done if
he had? Would he have jerked his hand awayy? Or pretended as if he hadn’t
felt anyything?