Page 249 of Kingdoms of Night

Sir Geraint was a sturdy stalk. And broad, like a thick oak. Her hands came to rest on his chest. Her fingers found a space in his shirt that was open. A sheen of sweat glistened on his muscled chest. Enid felt parched as she looked down at the exposed flesh.

She knew better than to dip her head and taste that spot. Partly because of manners. More importantly, because if a plant consumed too much salt, they would dehydrate and wither.

The ground beneath them ceased its vibrating. They had arrived. Enid stepped back from him, and the knight immediately released his hold on her. The two stared at each other like two saplings whose roots had touched underground for the first time.

Enid’s mind was flooded with images of the first time she’d looked upon this man. He had loomed over her while she was on the ground. Believing she had posed a danger to him, he had lashed out. Enid hadn’t been hurt, but no one would know that by the look of horror and abject shame that came across the knight’s face when he saw what he’d done.

For the slight he’d believed he’d dealt her, Sir Geraint had given Enid his pledge.If ever you need it, for the rest of my days, my sword is at your command.He didn't understand how words could bind beings together. That's why the plants in his realm of Midgard didn't speak to humans.

"Good sir, Garan-"

"Geraint."

Enid frowned. She didn't hear the distinction. But she tried to pronounce his name the way he said it. "Ger aunt."

He smiled at that. His sun-bright eyes lit over her skin, making her feel warm in the cold air at their arrival point.

"At your service, Lady Enid."

She knew the honorific was meant as a title of honor, but she was no lady. She wasn't human. Still, if he needed to believe that, she'd let him.

“This is my brother, Sir Gawain."

Enid nodded at the other knight. His flesh was the color of sun on the sand. A dark curtain of hair hung around his angular face. His smile was friendly, but his gaze was piercing. Enid felt this man saw through her and down to her roots.

One knight looked at her with suspicion. The other looked at her with eagerness. Enid turned from both their gazes and stepped out of the portal and into the open.

Ice crunched under her bare toes. The chill in the wind stiffened her hair as it blew past her. Most flowers did not prefer the cold. That was a key reason she had originally agreed to this union.

"Perhaps we should find shelter, my lady,” said Geraint as he raised his arm to brace against another cold wind. "Where are we?"

The landscape was a gradation of whites and grays for as far as the eye could see. Even the sky was a muted shade of blue that was dominated by fluffy white clouds threatening to unleash another bout of snowfall.

“We're in Jotunheim,” she said.

“The realm of the frost giants?" Geraint grimaced, but it didn't look like fear. "Our kind is forbidden in these parts. We would be breaking the treaty."

She knew knights were humans born with a touch of magic. That magic was stolen from this realm that was beyond the Veil that the Goddess erected from her original creations and her new human pets. From that trespass, the first witch was born after she ate from the Tree of Knowledge. The tree’s roots were deep into the ley lines, the source of the Goddess’ power. The Goddess had not intended for her new favored creation to have that power, but like she did with all things, including the refuse in the seas, the hole in the sky, and the toxic chemicals in the grounds, she forgave humanity.

She forbade them from crossing back into the realm of her abandoned breeds. The Knights were the keepers of that promise, the guards of the boundaries between worlds, and the protectors of the magic that had been stolen. Which was why this knight was the perfect man for this job.

"Yet you were in Alfheim, about to steal from the All Father,” Enid said.

That last bit was a guess. By the look of remorse that crossed Geraint’s handsome features, Enid knew the guess was right.

“It was a fool's errand.” He said the words around a mouth weighed down by a grimace.

Enid wondered if he was referring to the woman Loren as the fool, or if he had been referring to himself. Sir Geraint and Lady Loren had been together back at the tournament. Enid had seen them standing close. She had assumed they were lovers. Perhaps they were on the outs? It was none of Enid's concern.

"Are you sure you're warm enough?" Geraint reached for her, but his hand stopped just shy of her elbow.

The snow fell all around them. Enid didn't feel it. She was able to regulate her internal organs and send them into dormancy if it got too cold. She hadn't calculated that humans were warm-blooded. Perhaps she could pull moss up from the ground to encase the men?

"Here, you can take my cloak."

Geraint tugged off a garment from his shoulders. Before Enid could protest, he swung it around her. She was engulfed in his spicy heat and his saline scent. No one had ever shared their warmth with her.

"I'm sorry," he said, alarm on his face. "Did I overstep? I don’t know the etiquette of fairies.”

---