Page 84 of Kingdom of Feathers

“But Your Majesty—” started several voices at once.

Basil cut them all off. “That’s an order.” He turned at last, pinning first the general, then his own guards, with an unyielding stare. “To every single one of you. We will join you momentarily.”

“King Basil…” The last weak protest came from Lord Baldwin, but Wren wasn’t surprised when he quailed under Basil’s glare. The nobleman had never seemed to her to have a great deal of resolution.

Reluctantly, their companions all moved away down the tunnel, casting frequent glances back. Once they’d disappeared around a corner, Basil turned to Wren.

All at once, it hit her that they were alone, for the first time since before she fell into the pond. The hard stare was gone from Basil’s face, and his eyes were softer than she’d ever seen them.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

Wren realized she was trembling slightly. Making an effort to pull herself together, she nodded, then tilted her head to one side.

Clearly understanding the unspoken question, Basil smiled. The intimacy of the expression sent another quiver over Wren’s frame. “Yes, I’m fine. This is a grim discovery, but I’m inclined to think that making it constitutes an enormous step forward.”

Wren nodded slowly. She was also glad they’d found the secret mine, but her thoughts still swirled uneasily around Sir Gelding, and his possible role in her accident. She only realized she was biting her lip when she saw that Basil’s eyes were drawn by the gesture. Flushing slightly, she reached for her slate.

Before she could get there, Basil stretched his arm across the distance between them. He stilled her hand with his own, that knowing smile back on his face. “You’re going to mention combined power, right? You’re thinking the enchanter Sergeant Obsidian mentioned could have given his power to Sir Gelding, who could have used it to attack you. I’ve even been wondering whether those jewels Sir Gelding wears might be fire jasper, which he’s using to channel additional magic.”

It took Wren a moment to respond. She wasn’t startled by the accuracy with which he’d read her. He’d developed quite a knack for figuring out what she was thinking. But she was distracted by the feel of his hand on hers, the warmth of his skin such a contrast to the chill air of the mine. The departing group had left them only one lantern, and in the dim light the moment felt intimate, important.

Gathering her thoughts with difficulty, she nodded. She wasn’t oblivious to the full implications of the idea. It meant Mistran and Entolian enchanters were working together against the combined crowns, which suggested a more organized—and more formidable—enemy than she’d previously guessed. But she couldn’t seem to make her thoughts focus.

Basil was still smiling, his eyes searching her face. “You know,” he said, his tone conversational, “it’s remarkable how much you can say even when you don’t actually say anything.”

Wren didn’t even know what made her do it. No thought preceded the action. Her hand just acted of its own accord, twisting under Basil’s so they were palm to palm. His own movements seemed equally unconscious as he interlocked their fingers and lifted their hands so they met in the air between them.

For a breathless moment they stood there, Wren’s palm tingling from the sensation of her fingers interwoven with Basil’s, the heat of his skin on hers sending out little trails of flame that seared her consciousness.

Then Basil took a small step toward her. Wren tried to remind herself that he was dangerous for some reason, that she’d been avoiding him for fear of…something.

She couldn’t for the life of her recall what. All she could comprehend was Basil’s closeness, the dirt still clinging to the waves of his hair, the broadness of his chest up this close, the frank way he looked her full in the eye, with no hint of self-consciousness, or of discomfort at her secrets. Few people looked at her so closely, andno onelooked at her like that. No one before Basil.

As if in a trance, Wren moved forward as well, so that they were mere inches apart. Basil’s free hand came up, and a rush of heat passed over Wren as he cupped her cheek.

“Wren.” His voice was as soft as silk, muffled in the close air of the tunnel.

She turned her face up invitingly, her heart picking up speed and her breath coming more rapidly. She saw Basil’s eyes dart to her lips, and he shifted toward her. But just as her eyelids flickered, preparing to close, he released her abruptly and stepped back.

As he dropped their interlocked hands, mortification rushed in to take the place of his warm touch. Wren’s eyes dropped to her feet, her stomach churning horribly. She’d been so sure he was going to kiss her. What a fool she must look.

“I’m sorry,” Basil said, running a hand through his hair. Whether he was apologizing for almost kissing her, or for pulling back, she didn’t know. “I shouldn’t have…I know I can’t…”

He drew a deep breath, meeting her eyes and trying painfully to smile. “It’s all a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”

Wren said nothing, of course, but Basil read her as easily as he always did.

“Wren,” he said quickly, stepping forward again and taking her hands in a reassuring grip. “Surelyyou’renot embarrassed! You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m the one who…” He grimaced. “I mean, you know Iwantedto kiss you, don’t you?”

Wren flushed at his plain speaking, glad for once of her ironclad excuse for silence. She didn’t have any words, even if she’d been allowed to use her voice.

“I’m not trying to make a secret of how I feel,” Basil pressed. “I wanted to kiss you desperately.”

His voice wasn’t emotional, exactly, but Wren couldn’t doubt the earnestness that radiated from him. So whyhadn’the kissed her?

“But thanks to who I am, we both know I can’t,” he went on matter-of-factly. “So I shouldn’t have put us both in that position. I’m sorry. You’re just…so hard to ignore.” His eyes burned into her, and Wren dropped her gaze to her feet again.

His words warmed her for a moment, but the feeling soon fell away, leaving utter confusion in its wake. If he wanted to kiss her, if he had no hesitation in communicating how he felt, why was it so impossible for him to follow through? What was it they supposedly both knew?

---