“By tonight, there might be. Usually, there are only a dozen of us on duty then, though Targon will keep more out and ready in case that intelligence was accurate.”
“Do the catacombs run under the royal castle?”
“No. They end down there.” Vlerion pointed toward buildings a couple of blocks from the base of the cliff. “I doubt the king who chose the location for his domicile would have wanted it perched above ancient Kar’ruk sarcophagi.”
“I’m not that delighted that my new meadery is above them, but if the skeletons inside don’t bother me, I won’t bother them.”
“I wish the Virts had the same philosophy.”
Kaylina shivered at the idea of being caught in what might turn into a city-wide battle. She was glad her brother was in the infirmary in the ranger headquarters, but what if the compound was a target? The Virts might want the king dead, but the rangers were his loyal and deadly troops, a threat they could also want to deal with.
Vlerion and Kaylina rode onto the plateau outside the castle, the view even more spectacular from there. Two guards at a closed portcullis in a gatehouse watched them approach.
One man eyed Kaylina’s legs. On the ride up, she’d smoothed the dress over them the best she could, but the salty sea breeze had ruffled it upward again.
Vlerion scowled at the overly observant guard, then nudged Crenoch closer to Levitke. The two taybarri stopped as Vlerion brushed the hem of the dress downward, his touch sending a zing of pleasure up Kaylina’s leg. She had to resist the urge to shift it closer to him so he would have fuller access. The guards were watching.
“I should have insisted on the carriage,” Vlerion muttered.
Kaylina told herself not to be turned on as he attempted to defy the wind to arrange the dress to cover her legs. He might have been more effective if he weren’t simultaneously glaring at the guard. The man looked away under his withering stare.
Kaylina rested her palm on Vlerion’s hand to stop his fussing. She knew he didn’t mean it to be arousing, but her body came alive at his touch, and this wasn’t the place for that.
“Thank you for trying to protect me,” she said so he wouldn’t feel disgruntled that she’d stopped him. She had the greater dangers in mind, not the guard checking her out, and hoped he understood.
With his hand resting on her leg, its heat noticeable through the fabric of the dress, Vlerion met her eyes. “I wasn’t honest with you last night.”
“Oh?” Nervous anticipation filled her, and she caught herself leaning closer, longing for him to admit… Oh, she didn’t know. That he cared? That he felt something more than an attraction? That he didn’t find her irritating and exasperating?
“Not any woman in danger would have made me turn,” Vlerion said softly, the words for her alone. “You’ve… interested me since you were brave enough to stay the first night in the cursed castle. More than I should have allowed.”
“I’ve… liked your interest. More than I should have allowed.”
“I know.”
She snorted. “You’re arrogant and pompous.”
“You don’t mind.” Smiling slightly, Vlerion looked at her hand holding his to her leg.
Kaylina should have pushed him away, but she didn’t. If they’d been alone, she would have been tempted to guide his hand higher.
“Nothing can happen between us. It’s too dangerous.” His eyes grew intense as they captured hers. “But I will protect you.”
A shiver went through her, and she shook her head, about to tell him not to do anything that would get him in trouble, especially here, in the royal castle, but he released her leg with a final brush of her dress and rode resolutely toward the guards.
Kaylina nudged Levitke to follow him and hoped nothing would happen inside to cause him to need to protect her.
When they reached the gatehouse, one guard bowed politely to Vlerion and looked curiously at Kaylina. “What is your business, Lord Vlerion?”
“The queen has requested to see the mead maker Kaylina Korbian.”
“And this is she?”
“Yes.”
“She’s young.”
“There’s not an age requirement for getting into mead making,” Kaylina said.