Kipp waits as if to say, Is that all?
“’Twas nothing like the others. Not even a bit.”
Kipp knows about my insecurities—my fear that I’m a hypocrite for helping others with love and desire when I’ve never experienced much of it myself. And so he softens, if just a little.
“I’m glad for it, Aedre. Truly, I am. But of all the men you could choose . . .”
“But I did not. Not truly. He is a noble, nearly a royal. And yet, when we met, I could not deny my attraction to him.”
Kipp seems to have calmed, though I worry about what that means. He has to agree to meet with Vanni, even if just to tell him no himself.
“So what happened?”
What indeed?
“’Tis a story for another time, but for various reasons, I have found myself in his presence almost every day since he arrived.”
Kipp makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Reasons? Ones contrived by you? Or by the very noble commander?”
I cross my arms. “Maybe by Vanni. But that matters not.”
“Ha! It matters, my dear Aedre. He seduced you.”
Seduced me to gain an audience with Kipp. I’ve considered as such, and even if I do not truly believe it, I’m practical enough to recognize there might be some truth to Kipp’s words.
“He could not have known. I only admitted to knowing your secret after he revealed his true purpose.”
Kipp is not convinced.
“Did he know we were friends?”
I think back. “Not at first.”
“But when he learned of it?”
In truth, I cannot guess at Vanni’s true intentions. I don’t know the man that well. But I do know one thing. “He desired me from the start.” I add in a small voice, “And I him.”
Before Kipp can answer, I tell him about the incident with Father Beald. Angry again, but this time for a very different reason, Kipp clearly wishes to pick up where Vanni left off. Though he might actually do the man harm, if his expression is any indication.
“He’s banished him, of sorts,” I quickly explain, and there’s a slight softening in Kipp. Very slight.
“So he used his influence to help you. Still, I suspect his motivations.”
“Ugh.” He can be so maddening. So very stubborn.
“Come, eat with us. ’Tis enough talk of Galfrid’s man.”
I try to argue, but he tugs my hand as a brother would.
“Will you see him?”
Kipp doesn’t answer but fairly pulls me from the solar instead.
Maddening.
The whole lot of them.
Chapter Twenty Vanni
“Be patient,” I insist. “She will gain us an audience.”
Christopher looks behind me as we finish our practice session. My men are impatient for news about Aldwine, especially now that he’s returned, and there’s no better way to pass the time than in training. Accepting challenges, honing our skills for the dark days ahead. Whether or not we return with the bastard king, I fear we will be called upon to fight for Meria’s future.
The widening of Christopher’s eyes tells me who stands at the entrance to the inn’s courtyard. “It seems your faith in her was not misplaced,” he says, leaving. “She is here.”
I gasp like an untrained lad when I turn to see her. Aedre has always dressed simply before, but not this eve.
She stands before me in a deep blue velvet gown lined in gold, her hair pulled away from her face with a simple gold circlet.
In a flash, I find myself envisioning her by my side at court.
None would rival her.
It takes me a moment to realize she’s staring back with an equal degree of intensity.
I walk toward her, feeling my body react to her presence. To her admiration. Aedre’s lips open, just slightly, her eyes trained on my bare chest.
“Pardon me, Lady Aedre.” I make for the wooden quintain and grab my shirt.
“You need not . . .”
Sheathing my sword, I pause for her to finish.
“. . . beg my pardon, for intruding on your practice.”
Smiling, I take a step toward her.
“I thought you might say I need not put this on.” I gesture to the shirt, which I then pull over my head.
She gives me a skeptical, weighing look—the same way she regarded me that very first day, when we met along the quay.
“I’ve seen men without their shirts on before.”
I glance around. Since we are alone, I decide to test her bravado.
“Aye?”
Another step toward her.
“Aye,” she says more firmly, so close now her lavender scent reaches me. I breathe it in, aching to reach out and touch her.
Closing the remaining distance between us, I pray Aedre will not be offended by my words. “And have you allowed many of those men you’ve seen as such to kiss you?” I search her eyes for the truth. “To taste your sweetness as I have done? To awaken something inside”—I venture a guess now—“that you’ve never felt before?”
A guess based on my own experience.
This . . . thing between us is unique. Even as I rebel against it, knowing my duty requires me to leave her—knowing also she would never wish to come to court with me—I cannot deny that.
“You are bold, sir.”
“And would be bolder still, would you allow it.”
“Is that so?”
It should not be so at all. But her eyes burn in a way that invites me to speak.
“Aye.”
No additional words are spoken, for none are needed. But Aedre is a lady, and a virgin. The code of honor dictates that we cannot lie together.
And still, I find myself saying, “Were circumstances different, I would not have put it back on but would have instead taken your hand and laid it on my chest. I’d have kissed you already, Aedre, and shown you just how dearly I wish you would touch all of me.”
A final step toward her.
I dare not move any closer.
I’m sure she will slap me at any moment. But this is no simpering maid. This woman has held a knife to my throat. Her manner of speaking is so bold, so brazen, it never fails to surprise me.
“I came here
