“Of swordplay? I think so, yes,” she said with a smile and a glimmer in her eyes, sliding her weapon back into the scabbard. The blade was thin, more of a rapier than a proper broadsword, but quick and light enough that Cattrine, thin and lithe, could wield it lethally. “Of being physically maneuvered by you? No. Not even close.”
He walked with an arm around her as they headed back up the steps into the foyer. “Hard to believe we’ve been here for a month.” He frowned. “Even harder to believe we’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes,” she said with mild enthusiasm. “I finally get to see this mythical ‘Sanctuary’ I’ve heard so much about. And perhaps I’ll finally meet this much-vaunted Vara, and see how much competition I have.”
“That would be none.” He stopped her in the stone foyer, delivering a long, passionate kiss that caused a nearby servant to cough politely. “She gave up the fight before we even met; the battle is ceded to you.”
Cattrine stared at him, something vague and mysterious hiding in her expression. She reached up with a lone finger and pressed it to his lips. “I do enjoy hearing you talk about love in war metaphors.”
“They’re very similar, I’ve heard,” he said with a wide grin. “Battles and fighting and all that. Even some bloodshed. Also, all is fair in both of them.”
“All that aside,” she said, serious, “what’s to become of me when we arrive back in Arkaria? Am I to stay in Sanctuary, be your kept woman?”
“I would be perfectly fine with that.” He wrapped his arms around her, but when he went to kiss her again, he got her cheek instead of her lips. “What’s wrong?”
“I am not some broken woman, waiting for a man to save me.” She looked momentarily embarrassed. “Which is why I took you up on your offer. So that I would never have to come before a man again and beg him to give me what I want-and that includes you.”
“Just because you’re with me doesn’t mean you’re bound to me,” Cyrus said, letting her pull from him. “You can find some meaningful work, some endeavors to devote your time to.” She did not look at him. “Baroness-”
“For heavens sakes, Cyrus,” she snapped. “I am no longer a Baroness. Everyone else calls me Cattrine, and the least you can do as the man I am intimate with is afford me the same courtesy.” She looked at him with rueful humor and the slightest amusement. “Please.”
“I’m sorry.” He found he meant it sincerely. “It must be difficult.”
“Hm?” She looked at him in curiosity.
“Not knowing what to do next,” he said. “Not knowing … where you’re going, or what you’ll do when you get there. Being reliant on another person for food, for sustenance, for room and board, for everything. I apologize for having put you in that position.”
She sighed. “You didn’t. Being born a woman in Luukessia put me in that position. You’re relieving me of it; but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy. Many a bird has struggled before taking flight for the first time.” She looked at him with great irony. “More than a few die trying to fly. I hope I’m not one of those.”
“There are many kinds of work available for a woman in Arkaria,” Cyrus said gently. “Even around Sanctuary we could surely find something to do that wouldn’t involve fighting, if you wanted.”
“I appreciate the offer,” she said more quietly. “I would like to remain near you, so that we can continue to … explore … what our next step might be together.”
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Next steps … well, I can think of one that tends to be a natural path.”
Her eyes flashed. “Rings, ceremonies, commitments? As I recall, I already asked you to do me that service once and you denied me.”
“I did. But had I known what I would be getting at the time,” he said with a wide grin, “I might not have been so reluctant to commit to it.”
She put on an offended look and smacked him on the arm. “You do me wrong, sir, to say such a crude thing to me.” Her look softened. “Especially since I did offer at the time, and you declined that as well …”
He sighed. “If only I’d known what I was missing. Why, I could have had another month’s worth of your physical company in my bedroll on the way here.”
“Is that all you keep me around for?” She kept her body at a slight distance, hovering just a few inches away.
“Not at all,” Cyrus said. “I also find your insight excellent and your conversational skills top notch. But I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed the other.”
She ran a hand through her brown hair, letting it fall out of the knot she’d styled it in before coming outside. He loved the way it lay, framing her face. “I confess that I’ve enjoyed this time with you as well-all parts of it, not having to worry, merely being …” she steered around the words he expected her to use, the ones she hadn’t yet- nor had he, either. “… together, without a care in the world,” she finished but without her customary smile.
“It’s something I’m rather unaccustomed to,” Cyrus agreed, as they made their way up the main staircase. “Someone once suggested to me that I might consider taking a vacation, but really, for as long as I recall, battle has been my release, it’s the way I spend myself when I get too harried and wound. But this, to slow down and take things easy,” he slid a hand along her side as he said it, “has been nicer than I could have guessed it would be.”
“You didn’t think spending a month in the company of an insatiable woman,” she slid her hands behind his back and grasped him, firmly, awakening him as she had by rubbing against him in the courtyard, “would be utterly exhausting and relaxing all at once?”
“I … hmm …”
They broke from another kiss with a grin and continued on their way. He watched the gleam in her eyes, the hunger, watched how she slowed her pace, to tease him, to make him wait. His long legs yearned to run, to scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to their bedroom, the place that they had made their own-he had seen her cry, watched her work through nights of pain and countless agonies from her past while he was there, waiting and watching and holding her. She had been there, too, for him, though he had never been as obvious about it. He had grieved in his own way, and she had rested his head upon her bosom, held him in her arms as he felt her warmth and let slip away a thousand dreams and memories of Vara, her golden hair and silver armor-
Cattrine let out a squeal of delight as Cyrus swept her up in his arms, just down the corridor from their room, carrying her at a light run. He opened the door with one hand and carried her in, his fingers eager to unbutton her shirt, to unlace her breeches, to throw her entire ensemble on the floor and get her to the bed, where he could feel her against him, to be with her …
They were on the bed when the first knock came, and Cyrus paused, his clothes already off. He waited, still, listening as the same methodical knocking came again. He met Cattrine’s eyes and she watched his impishly, waiting to hear if the sound persisted or went away. There was another knock moments later, and Cyrus exchanged a look with Cattrine, wrapped a blanket around himself, and walked across the cold floor to the door and opened it.
Martaina waited outside, along with Odau Genner, who wore a pained expression on his pinched face. Martaina was impassive, standing as though she were on guard.
“Yes?” Cyrus asked, looking between the two of them with slight irritation.
“My liege summons you, Lord Davidon,” Genner said. “He requests your presence in the throne room immediately.”
“Then I will be along-immediately,” Cyrus said. “Provided he won’t be offended if I dress myself first.”
“I believe that he would consider that an acceptable delay,” Genner said with a nod. “We await your company, sir.” With that, he left, walking down the hall.
“What are you doing out here?” Cyrus asked Martaina.
“I’ve been here all along.”
“You weren’t here a few minutes ago when I came in.” Cyrus snugged the blanket around himself, making certain that nothing undue was visible.
“No,” Martaina agreed. “I went around the corner for as long as it took the two of you to go inside. But before that, I was out here.”
“How did you know we were … oh.” He looked at her, annoyed. “Elven hearing.”
She smiled faintly. “Get dressed, sir.”
He closed the door, letting the grain of the wood slide against his palm as he pondered what the King might have to say that was so important it couldn’t wait.
“Who was it?” Cattrine asked from behind him.
