Finally, he said, "After tonight, Woodcourt can no longer be your home."
Obviously not. I added, "Antora can no longer be my home."
"No, you could stay in Antora if ..." His voice trailed off and he seemed to struggle for the right words to finish. He scraped his boot along the floor before stepping forward, close enough that my pulse shot into my fingertips. I understood what the focused look in his eyes meant, why he seemed so nervous. Yet it couldn't compare to the flutters his presence created in me, a symphony of confusion. "Would you consider joining the Coracks? I know it'd mean turning on your father, but hasn't he already turned on you? Let's fight on the same side of this battle."
He was asking too much. Couldn't he see that? The sudden exhaustion I felt went deeper than a thousand years of sleep could cure. I lowered my eyes, mumbling, "We're not on the same side. We'll never be."
"Why not? Let's fight together. Let's be together." He put a hand to my cheek and held it there. His touch was gentle, barely a whisper upon my skin, but as his fingers swept around the side of my neck, something stirred inside me, a beautiful chaos that started in my chest and spread throughout my body. Did he know the feelings that were exploding in me, the tremors his touch caused?
My arms unfolded, inviting him closer. I'd always been drawn to his eyes, but it was more than that. I liked the hint of curl in his hair, the strong line of his jaw, the flush of color in his cheeks when he was angry or smiling or ... or whatever was happening to him now.
What was happening to me? This couldn't continue. Not with everything I knew. Not if he knew.
Simon's fingers slid down my neck, tracing trails of shivers, his thumb caressing my collarbone and flooding my senses with him. If I had any control of my legs, I would have backed away, but instead, I wanted to be near him, to feel the touch of his lips. Would his kiss be gentle, like the caress of his hands? Or would it be as intense as his gaze? Was he feeling the same as me, dizzy and frightened and fully alive? I tried to push those thoughts away, all the while letting them swirl in my head. My feelings for him were already dangerous enough. I couldn't let things get worse. I shouldn't even dare to call him a friend. Because he wasn't, not to me.
He spoke in a near whisper. "Once we leave Woodcourt, Lord Endrick will put a target on your back. You'll fight against him, or fall victim to him. The Coracks might be your only defense. And I will still consider myself your protector. I always will. Come with me, Kes."
Kes. Not Kestra, or Princess. And words spoken with such warmth, such tenderness, they threatened my last remaining defenses. If my heart and my mind could not agree, how was I to know which to follow?
I'd follow him. I wanted to be in his world, in his life. In his heart.
His gaze shifted to my lips. My breath lodged in my throat. He leaned in.
And I heard the words, "This won't work."
The voice that pushed Simon away didn't seem like my own, though I knew I'd said it. I knew what he was offering, and the temptation of it was nearly overwhelming. But I had to reject his offer, reject him. Reject us. I blinked away the sting in my eyes. "If we find the Olden Blade in the pit tonight, then Tenger should keep his agreement to return my servants. That's all I want."
Simon's face fell. "Are you sure?"
I was no longer sure of anything, except that I had just ruined a moment I might never get back again. With more reluctance than I wanted to admit, I pushed his hand away and left the room, alone and aching with regret. He grunted in irritation, but followed, letting me stay ahead of him until we were in the gardens.
Sir Basil was near the entrance and smiled when he saw me coming. "My lady Kestra. My wife to be."
His manner was more reserved than it had been last evening, I noticed. Perhaps Endrick's reminder that he had agreed to kill me on our wedding night weighed on him. Poor thing.
"How lovely you are tonight," Basil continued. "I cannot imagine any possibility of you looking more beautiful, not even tomorrow, on our wedding day."
From behind us, Simon swatted at the branches of a bush to get past us, making sure we remembered he was there.
As if I could forget. Even at a distance, his presence was still making me as nervous as I'd felt alone with him in that room. Simon's hand was calloused from years of hard work and managing a sword, yet it had felt soft as a glove against my skin. I wished I had not stormed away from him. I wished that had not been necessary.
Somehow, my expression with Basil remained calm. "Lord Endrick wanted the wedding tomorrow night, and, as you know, we must obey his demands." That poured some ice on his fire.
"Yes, of course." He gestured at Simon. "Your protector can wait out here. We'll be safe in these gardens alone."
"I have orders to stay with her." Simon spoke through gritted teeth. "Lord Endrick's orders."
"You can stay here at the entrance," I said to Simon. "That will satisfy Lord Endrick." Then I smiled up at Basil. "I'm safe with you, I'm sure."
Simon's anger could be felt as we passed, but I didn't dare give him so much as a casual glance back. Even if Basil did try something, Darrow had taught me a few tricks wherein I could disable him for weeks, if necessary.
I took Basil's arm and he led me down a path of tall hedges, thick enough that Simon would not be able to spy on us or eavesdrop. If Basil had been more clever, I would have thought this was planned.
"When my father told me I'd be married to a Dallisor girl from Antora, I confessed that I was less than enthusiastic," he began. "Dallisor women are usually quite ... sturdy."
"What type do you prefer?" The question sounded flirtatious, but I truly was curious. "Dainty girls?"
Dainty, weak little ladies who are unable to defend themselves against a spitting snow beetle, much less someone who had been ordered to kill his new wife? I didn't say that part.