Page 49 of Arrows and Gems
Her head flew up. “Capuchon! You’re back.”
He shrugged in silent acknowledgment of the obvious. “Laurent said you weren’t feeling very social.”
“Hewouldnotice,” she scoffed, sending a glare in his direction. “He still thinks I’m the enemy.” Glancing over at Cap, she added, “But then, I guess you do, too.”
He wasn’t sure what he thought. Especially after speaking with Nathalie.
“I don’t know why I missed you,” she muttered, looking away. “Ruhig wie immer.”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk.” He said the words softly, allowing her the choice of whether she wanted to hear them.
She looked at him in surprise. Narrowing her eyes, she examined him. He didn’t know what she was looking for since his face was doubly hidden by his cloak and the night. “That’s right. I don’t.”
He nodded, and they dropped into silence.
“The singing reminded me of my brother,” she admitted after a few minutes. Wrapping her arms around her bent legs, she leaned forward and stared sightlessly at the group around the campfire. “He’s never happier than when he’s in the music room.”
It was the first information she’d volunteered about her family. Not wanting to frighten her back into silence, he kept his voice disaffected. “You miss him.”
“Yes.” She settled her chin on her knees. “He was one of few bright spots in my childhood, him and Michael. No one looked forward to his monthly visits more.” She snorted. “Except maybe Katy.”
“He didn’t live with you?”
Margit shook her head. “Not back then.”
But he did now?
“Why doesn’t anyone want me?” she whispered, melting sideways. Cap froze when her shoulder came to rest against his arm. “Michael is married, Luther wants my title, Tobias wants my best friend. I give my parents a headache because I’m not enough of a lady.”
“What about your brother?”
“Careful, Capuchon,” she chuckled sadly. “Someone might think you care about the spy.”
He didn’t know what to do with the names she’d rattled off. Suitors? Friends? Men she wished were suitors?
Did it matter? He was only interested in finding out thetruth about her.
Wasn’t he?
She rolled her head onto his shoulder and looked up at him, the firelight reflecting off tear trails on her cheeks. “Even you don’t want me. And you’re an outlaw who collects strays.”
He should say something. He needed his snap judgment to come up with a response, but that depended on what he thought about her. And he still hadn’t decided.
Margit blinked, and two large tears spilled over and ran down her face.
Cap’s heart sped up with the precursor to panic. He didn’t even know what to do when his sister cried. He had no idea how to handle tears from a woman he’d known for two weeks.
Gulping, he said, “I don’tnotwant you.” That was neutral, right? Accurate either way?
“Don’t lie.” She pushed away from him and settled back against the tree trunk, oblivious to his relief at the distance. “I make you uncomfortable.”
Or maybe not so oblivious.
“Why do you think that?” he tried, fingering the fletching on his arrows.
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t trust me, but you can’t get rid of me. You don’t touch people, but I need help getting around and keep falling into your arms.” Raising an eyebrow in challenge, she poked him in the shoulder. He suppressed the urge to dodge. “It must be driving you crazy.”
Possibly. For multiple reasons.
