She nods. “As well as I can be with grown men behaving like caged pixies outside my door,” she grimaces.
Gawain shuffles his feet, most likely embarrassed for his behavior—as he should be.
“Gawain is requesting to speak with you, and we were just telling him that you’d find him when you’re ready to receive him,” Laisren declares.
She nods solemnly—the tremor in her hands returning as she stares at Gawain.
I step in front of her, blocking the Malvorian snob and Laisren from her view. I’m merely a breath away as I lean in close to her ear. My helmet brushes against her hair. I don’t miss the shiver that trails across hershoulders. “You don’t have to speak about what occurred in Aurelius if you aren’t ready,” I whisper. “Just say the word, and I’ll send him away.”
She leans back to look up at me, and something flickers in her irises as her trembling ceases. “He deserves to know,” she murmurs. “I need to tell him before someone else does.”
“If that’s what you desire, then it shall be,” I whisper. Turning around, I find Laisren smirking, while Gawain just gawks. “You may speak with her, but one of us is to be present in the room,” I reply.
He huffs. “Am I not permitted a private audience with my to-be sister-in-law?” he retorts.
“She’s wanted by his royal highness, King Tiernan. Regardless of who you believe her to be, I won’t have someone with whom I’m not familiar alone with her. For all I know, you’ll put some ridiculous notion in her head to escape. I can assure you that neither of you would get very far if that were the case. I’d hunt her down until my final breath,” I warn.
I’m pretty sure the chill radiating behind me is Maeva conjuring up new ideas on how to torture me slowly, but nothing I said is false. I don’t trust Gawain, nor do I trust that he would not try to harm her once he learns the truth…whatever that full truth entails.It’s my duty to protect her—the king’s orders, of course. I can never let her go, even if that makes me the villain.
The disdain rolling off of Gawain is evident. He opens his mouth to speak, most likely about to spout something that would end his tediously short life, but Maeva steps from behind me. There’s a storm brewing behind her deep, tired eyes, though I am not sure whom she’s more angry with at the moment.
“Virgil,” she says. “I want Virgil with me.”
I look over my shoulder to where my fourth commander still remains in the room. His eye widens. He appears shocked that she’d pick him as her support.
I’m not.
Since Aurelius, she seems the most at peace with him. For some reason, he has taken a liking to her as well.
Does he find her attractive?I wonder, a small tingle in my chest at the thought.
No. I can’t go there,I remind myself.
I have to remember Virgil’s past helps him to relate to her situation better than anyone else here. I suppose she could sense that in his responses to her as she sat on the floor of The Violet Lily. If he makes her feel safe, then so be it.
“Is that arrangement to your liking, High General?” Gawain taunts.
I ignore the clerk entirely. “Virgil?” I ask. “Can you handle this?”
My fourth commander understands what I’m actually asking:Can you keep her safe from him if needed?
I’ll allow him to make the final call, even if I would prefer it to be me in the room with her.
Virgil nods once. “Yes, High General,” he says.
“We’ll be in the hall if you need us,” I say, gesturing to the rest of my cadre. As Maeva turns to enter the room, I grab her arm. “Do not attempt anything reckless, or you will regret it,” I say, more to scare Gawain than her, but it still gets the point across.
Maeva’s eyes don’t leave the ground as her sharp voice cuts through the silence. “As you wish, High General.” Then, in a quieter tone, she whispers, “Thank you. I won’t take up too much of Virgil’s time.”
“He’ll keep you safe,” I murmur. “Take the time you need, but once it’s done, I expect Gawain to leave your chambers.”
Her eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, there’s something other than hatred illuminating her irises.
It’s probably the exhaustion and rather poor lighting.
Gawain clears his throat as he pushes between us.
I growl. “If you try anything?—”