Built atop the highest cliff, encircled by a stone wall and small inner courtyard, the castle itself is eclipsed by its surroundings.
The castle stands tall before us. As a blacksmith’s daughter, I should have little cause to visit such a place. But Lord Bailor is not a typical nobleman. Most often, we do not even think of him as one at all, but as a Voyager who happens to live in a grand place.
Amma said he learned from the mistakes of his grandfather, who attempted to lead the people of Murwood, even naming himself king. For his efforts, he was pushed off the very cliff we pass now. A stone marker reminds those who pass it of Voyagers’ intolerance of being ruled by others. Bailor’s father learned the lesson well, quietly taking the inheritance of Anbarth but never attempting to extend his claim beyond its walls.
On a whim, I put my hand over Vanni’s grip on my waist. To comfort him about his loss. Or at least, that is the reason I give myself for doing it. In response, Vanni slows Dex to near stopping. And then I feel him leaning in close to my ear once again.
“I promised to give you safe escort, and will do so. Just so that we are clear, my lady, it is the only reason I haven’t kissed you yet.”
His rough knuckles shift under my fingers, but they do not push me away. If I turn my head even the slightest, his lips will touch mine.
You will not see him again after tomorrow. Tonight, maybe one other night, and then Vanni will be gone.
And yet, I’m about to turn toward him anyway when someone calls to us from behind. Vanni dismounts and holds a hand up to me. Reluctantly, I let him assist me. Feet firmly on the ground, I’m about to walk around Dex to greet the cobbler, who’s approaching us from a distance with a wide grin, when Vanni stops me.
“But I may do so yet this eve, when my escort duties are over, Lady Aedre,” he says with a wink.
Chapter Twenty-Two Vanni
I spot him immediately. Even if I hadn’t seen him last night, I would have known him on sight. He stands taller than any of the others, both in height and in bearing. His high cheekbones give him the look of Galfrid.
Apparently Kipp sees us as well. Mid-conversation, he turns from his companions and makes his way toward us. He’s at the back of the great hall, though, and we’ve just entered it. Judging by the people who keep stopping him for a word or a greeting, it may take him a while to reach us. Having greeted our host and hostess, Aedre and I walk toward the gathering crowd, which is perhaps fifty or a bit more in number.
“They are unaccustomed to seeing someone of your ilk here,” she whispers.
Forgetting Aldwine for a moment, I shake my head. “They are looking at you, Aedre. Not me.”
From what I’ve learned of Aedre thus far, she is very much in tune with others’ feelings. Their distress. Their interests. Their passions. But not so much her own.
I would change that.
“He’s coming toward us,” Aedre says.
“I see him.”
A serving girl approaches us with two goblets of wine, which we take with our thanks.
I’m desperately going to need some wine after that ride. For as long as I live, I will remember the feeling of Aedre’s backside pressing against me. Of the way she laid her hand over mine, as if to tell me I wasn’t alone. That she felt and saw my pain.
“Aedre?”
It’s both a question and a warning. Aldwine glares at me as he would an enemy.
“’Tis good to see you again so soon, Kipp,” she says. “May I introduce my escort, Lord Vanni d’Abella?”
“Escort?” he spits out.
Taking exception to his tone, I interject with, “My intentions are honorable, I can assure you.”
I reach out my hand, but Aldwine does not take it.
He is every bit a Voyager. And a warrior, too. Though I suspect the rumors of unprovoked attacks by such men are nothing more than rumors, I understand why so many believe them to be true.
“Your intention is to gain an audience with me.”
His tone is hard. Unforgiving.
I look at Aedre and realize what he’s said to her. He believes I used her to get to him.
“You do not believe that?” I address her, not him.
Aedre takes a sip of wine but does not answer. I wait, ignoring Aldwine.
“Aedre?”
She blinks and lowers her goblet.
“I do not believe that.”
Though she says the words, I can tell the possibility bothers her. And although one of the reasons I originally sought an audience with her was to gain access to Kipp, my feelings for her are very real.
“I cannot say the same,” Aldwine bites out.
So it seems I’ve complicated my mission here by having grown close to a woman he cares for.
“I’ve no argument with you, Master Aldwine,” I say, mostly sincere.
His lips flatten. “Again, I cannot say the same.”
“Kipp.”
Her scolding tone amuses me. Aedre addresses the future king like she might a wayward child.
“You should not have brought him here,” Kipp sneers. “If you needed escort, I could have provided it.”
Aedre rolls her eyes. “By the time my father shared the invitation and his intent to stay home, there was little time to send for you.”
“And yet you sent for him?”
If Aldwine were any other man in the world, I’d have a retort for that. Would likely already have challenged him.
But this is Galfrid’s son.
“He is staying in the village. Besides, I’ve told you already, I trust him. So enough of this silliness. Please be kind.”
I assume he will do no such thing, but at her words, Aldwine frowns, turns to me, and lifts the goblet in his hand.
“Good eve, then. We
