I should care very much about her reasons for seeking me out, especially given her connection to Aldwine, but first, I’d know one thing.
“Do you wish to touch me, Aedre?”
Though we are alone at the moment, the courtyard having cleared as all who practiced or watched headed indoors for supper, such a fact could change at any time. Even so, I cannot help myself.
“Aedre?”
Before I can help myself, I reach for her. Aedre does not recoil from my hand, instead allowing it to graze her cheek. It feels as her gown looks, so soft and smooth.
Her eyes close, thick dark lashes against her cheeks. Part of me aches to forget everything and taste her again. Yet the sight of my rough hand against her flesh is reminder enough of who I am and why I am here. I am a warrior, a commander. My hands were made for fighting, not loving.
I pull my hand away. “You did not come here to be mauled by me.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs. “Mayhap I did.”
Her words do not help, even though I asked for such torture. Another vision, this time of me hauling her up against the stone building behind her, using it as leverage as I hold her at my waist, sinking into her, claiming her . . .
Groaning, I step back, attempting to regain control.
“You said you’ve come for a purpose, and ’twas likely not to be mistreated by me.”
“Nay,” she says adamantly, “you would never do that.”
I look into her eyes.
“Nay, I would not.”
After a moment, one no words could sufficiently fill, she says, “I came to tell you that I’ve seen Kipp.”
Before I can respond, she rushes to add, “Lord Bailor is hosting a feast in honor of the men’s safe return. I am on my way there now.”
Ah, the reason for her gown.
“Kipp will be there. And he will receive you on the morrow.”
I want to wrap my arms around her.
“I’d have come here sooner, but when I returned home, Father was not feeling well. So I dressed, hoping . . . hoping you might escort me there.”
“To Anbarth Castle?”
Aedre nods. “My father and I were invited, but perhaps you could escort me instead?”
“Would it be proper, for me to escort you, alone? Your father . . .”
“Trusts that I can judge a man’s character well. He knows that I am here, asking you this very question.”
“Such strange customs.” I stop myself. “Nay, not strange. Different than my own. Thank you.” I’m not sure what I’m thanking her for, exactly, arranging our meeting with Kipp or inviting me to spend the eve with her. It will likely be our last chance to do so. Once we meet with Kipp, there will be no further reason to stay. Galfrid needs us, needs me, in the south.
The thought is a heavy one, but I won’t allow it to ruin our night.
“You are an angel.”
I would hug her. Kiss her.
I would make her mine, if I could.
“Come into the inn while I prepare. I’ll do so quickly.”
“Vanni.” She lays a hand on my shoulder before I can walk away, staying me. I resist the urge to grasp it. To kiss it. To touch the inside of her wrist with my lips, my tongue . . .
“Do not thank me yet. You may have an audience, but I do not believe you will have your king.”
I don’t let her words affect the gleeful mood I suddenly find myself in.
“We shall see.” I smile. “I can be quite persuasive.”
Chapter Twenty-One Aedre
When Kipp agreed to meet Vanni on the morrow, my victory felt hollow. He only agreed for my sake, and I know his answer will not be to Vanni’s liking. My heart felt heavy too, burdened by the knowledge that Vanni will leave after their meeting.
By the time I reached home to news of Lord Bailor’s invitation, Amma knew something was wrong. The blasted tears would not stop flowing.
Holding me to her chest, she stroked my hair as if I were a young girl. She did not chastise me, although I would have understood if she had. I’ve known Vanni for less than a sennight. But Amma reminded me of the heart’s wayward notions.
“There is nothing as unpredictable as love,” she’d said.
My stupid heart chose a man that I cannot have.
When father returned home with the invitation from Lord Bailor and said he felt too weary to attend, Amma and I exchanged a glance. I knew without asking that we shared the same thought—a surprising turnaround given her attitude the first time we discussed Lord d’Abella.
“Mayhap the commander could escort me?”
Amma was quick to add, “He is an honorable man, the king’s commander. I think ’tis a fine idea.”
Father attempted to argue, but Amma didn’t make it easy on him.
“Who should she ask instead? Agnar? He covets the child still, and you know it well, Dal.”
Child.
I tried not to grin at Amma’s words.
“Agnar would not dishonor her,” he says hesitantly. “We know little of this commander.”
“’Tis not true, Father. I know the king trusts him with his life. And that he is loyal and respectful. I’ve learned from you well and would not risk myself for any man.”
It had taken a bit more convincing, but he’d relented in the end. As Vanni said, our ways are not so rigid here. The people of Murwood End pride themselves on flaunting the conventions of the south and east. Of the very courts they fled from.
As I wait for him in front of the inn, watching the fishermen unload and the final flurry of activity of the day, I think of myself a few days hence, watching the same scene knowing Vanni will not emerge from the inn behind me. He will be long gone, a distant memory.
I’ve healed so many of the ache of lost love, but can I heal myself?
“Apologies if I kept you waiting overly long, my lady.”
I turn, amazed at how quickly he’s
