Page 120 of Untempered
She let out a surprised laugh. “I—well, I suppose it’s lucky he isn’t, then.”
I wondered if I could keep that levity going. “And the way you gazed at Kadan during the tourney would’ve been even more improper,” I added idly, popping some cheese into my mouth.
She spluttered, and I had to fight not to grin. “I did not!”
I shrugged easily and leaned back on one arm. Kadan would’ve loved this. My heart ached. “Sure. It was his horse, then?”
“I do happen to like horses,” she said airily.
“Not blondes?” I prodded, shooting her a sideways look, unable to hide the smile any longer at her expression.
“I amnotlusting after your friend.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask who she was lusting after, but I didn’t. There was no good that would come of that answer. “I know,” I admitted. “And even if you were, I’d think no less of you. I just wanted to stir you a bit.”
She eyed me suspiciously, but apparently, whatever she saw mollified her. “Well, then.” She yawned, laying her plait along her knee nearest the fire. “Stirring accomplished, sir,” she said around a yawn. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be very good company this evening.”
I didn’t tell her she was never good company because that wouldn’t have been true. Instead, I said, “I like your quiet.”
Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile for just a moment. “Noted.”
“No.” I wasn’t letting it go. Not anymore. “Not like that. I mean, it’s nice. It’s just…nice.” She was going to make me find words that I didn’t have, but that tiny, bitter smile made my heart hurt. “I like your words. But I like the quiet as you’re doing things, too.”
“You’re making this awkward, you know? You just undressed me. You saw my breasts. Now it’s weird.”
“Wild horses,” I said around a laugh. “Look,my lady,no breasts were seen by me tonight.” If I’d been a better man, I wouldn’t regret that. “I saw a mastodesmos, as is worn by any Steppe warrior who doesn’t like to jiggle about. Seems like a sensible option to me.” Thanking the Old Gods that Kadan wasn’t present to tell her sensible women were my weakness. “I’m being nice because I happen to not hate you. We both need to get used to that.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at me in silence as if sifting through the bounty of excuses and context I’d offered her, trying to make sense of all of it.
“Okay,” she said warily. “Can I sleep now?”
I didn’t want to move away. The thought made panic flutter in my chest. “Am I stopping you?”
“You do keep talking,” she acknowledged and yawned again. “I’m sorry. I want to. But.”
But she’d been out all afternoon traveling the city on foot, single-handedly ending ambushes before they really began, saving lives and having her body ravaged by the plague. She was sick and exhausted. She was vulnerable. I shouldn’t push her.
I’d never been accused of talking too much in my life.
“Can I sit with you?” She looked at me blankly. “You’ll take hours to warm up.” Every moment her face remained expressionless felt like a stone slab being added onto my chest. I struggled to breathe. “You don’t have to move.” I couldn’t hold reassurances in. “I won’t take your blankets or mess up your pile.” I bit my tongue around promises I couldn’t keep.
She blinked at me, her expression still blank. I struggled to breathe.
“You won’t fit,” she finally said around another, even longer yawn. So help me, I felt the blood pooling in my belly and the rush of anticipation. “You probably could,” she admitted, and it wasn’t anxiety that kept me from breathing now. “I suppose we’re pretty resourceful.” I locked my teeth around a response and, oblivious, she burrowed in deeper. There was no expectation or artifice in her manner. Her eyes drifted closed, and I felt the drumming of desire in my veins. “You can sit with me,” she said, the words so soft they were almost lost to the night. “But you don’t need to. I’m fine.”
I dragged the chair the short distance separating us, and settled in.
CHAPTERFORTY-EIGHT
AUDREY
“Old friends can be lovely, but question—what is it they want from you, and why are they here? Remember: our duty is first to The One.”
~ Etiquette in Arcanloc
Chay was sleeping sprawled all over my reading chair, limbs akimbo and lips slightly open, when I woke. It didn’tlookcomfortable, but he was out cold, so it couldn’t have been too bad.
My body ached. The gloves I’d been living in ought to have been dry by now, but I left them and just tucked the blanket around myself, going up to bank Isolde’s fire and pass her some warm water.
