“There now. There,” Elia comforted. “I have said too much. I worry over things. ’Tis what I do.” She wiped Kes’ eyes. “Now then, continue with your story, dear one. Tell me, what ’tis like in twenty nineteen. You are very different from anyone I have ever known, especially for a woman.”
Kes forgot about witches for a moment. “In my time, women are very different, I’m very happy to report. There is still a long way to go though.”
“In truth?” Elia asked.
“I would not lie to you.”
Elia smiled and nodded. “What does Nicholas think?”
“I don’t know if he believes me, but he agreed to help me get back.”
They remained locked away in Kes’ room for the next hour, until they heard the guards outside announcing Nicholas’ return. They unbarred the door and waited for him to come. Elia was sure he would. Kes wasn’t as certain.
Elia proved to be correct.
He looked tired and anxious, but as handsome as any man had a right to be, dressed in his dark armor. His eyes glittered like diamonds under a charcoal sky when they told him about Richard. Actually, it was Elia doing all the talking while Nicholas unhooked himself from his armor.
She grew angry in the telling, like a protective mother bear. Something Kes hadn’t had in many years.
“He told her he would marry her just to—” Elia pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper the word in his ear.
Kes never fought so hard not to smile. She wouldn’t tell Elia that she’d heard the word a gazillion times.
When Nicholas clenched his jaw and drew his hands into fists, Kes smiled at him. “Listen,” she said softly, coming closer. “Words like that don’t offend me. He’s a jerk. So what?”
“His thoughts of you are dangerous,” her knight muttered.
Oh, would she ever stop considering him her knight?
“I must confront him.”
“No,” Kes said, reaching for his hand.
Elia stepped back.
His large hand in both of hers made her ache to bring his fingers to her face. “I cannot change anything, Nicholas.”
“Just being here has changed things alre—” He stopped speaking and looked over at Elia, remembering that she was there.
“I told her,” Kes whispered, then let him go and closed her eyes when he cursed under his breath.
“Would you truly keep this from me?” Elia asked, looking at him.
He ran both hands through his dark hair. “’Tis madness, El! And what if he hears of it?” He pointed to the door of the room.
“Are you suggesting he’ll hear it from me?”
“No, but—”
“I will not say a word, Nicholas. You should know that,” Elia brooded.
“She could help us,” Kes suggested, getting Elia to smile again.
Nicholas held his hands to his mouth and then shook his head as if he simply couldn’t take anymore. “Who will you enlist next, Kes? Cook? The laundress, the scullery maids?”
Kes blinked and then physically pushed him out of the way—and it wasn’t easy, but he blocked her path.
“You’re a jerk just like the rest of them,” she threw over her shoulder at him and left the room.
She didn’t really want to be alone in the halls with the king possibly prowling about. She realized it was foolish to leave her room, but she had to get away from Nicholas. Madness was it? She was getting sick and tired of hearing that, too. She didn’t care how insane it sounded. Couldn’t he just suspend what he thought he knew of time and trust that she was telling the truth? Elia had done it. Elia believed her. Kes was glad she’d told her.
“Kestrel, wait!”
She heard him but she didn’t stop. She hoped she remembered her way to the wall. She’d taken a wrong turn yesterday and ended up in Reg and Adele’s wing. Harrowing.
“Leave me alone, Nicholas. I’m off to find more people to enlist. Because, you know, I’m an idiot and can’t look out for myself!”
“I never said that!” he defended, pulling himself out of the padding that had been underneath his armor.
She spun on him. “There are many ways to say a thing, you oaf!”
She refused to think about how good he looked in a léine that was just tight enough to stretch across his chest and shoulders.
She looked away and stepped through a door. She was hit with a cool northern breeze. She took a deep breath and shut the door in his face.
“Look, I really want to be alone,” she told him when he came outside.
“Kestrel, ’tis been a long day. I did not mean what I said. Come now—” He put his hand to her elbow to urge her along. She slapped it away. His arm snaked out and coiled around her waist. He yanked her in and she hit his chest hard enough to lose her breath for an instant. She meant to scold him for his treatment of her, but he used his free hand to smooth her hair over her forehead as he leaned down to kiss her.
She didn’t think about it. She wanted it. He wasn’t as bad as the others, and with a little work—
His mouth molded over hers like a caress. His lips were plump and firm, and oh so teasing. He didn’t need any help at all. He brushed his curious tongue across her bottom lip and angled his mouth over hers again, letting his hand on her back sink lower, to the top of her rear.
She felt everything in her go warm. Not a good sign. She liked it. She liked it too much. The gorgeous knight in dark armor knew how to kiss. She closed her arms around his neck and curled her fingers through his hair. She pressed her breasts to his chest and thrilled when he groaned into her mouth.
He let her go. She held on to the wall. He battled with himself over her. She could see it
