Page 93 of Lake of Sorrow

“Then what’s the problem? Why are we having a private chat? Or did you want an opportunity to rub my butt?”

“I always want that.” Vlerion squeezed her, and she hoped he would pull her close. Instead, he released her, stepped back, and took a deep breath as he looked toward the water.

As much as she wanted to close the distance again, she lowered her arms to her sides. She couldn’t allow herself to make this hard for him. She understood what was at stake. For both of them. The damn vision had made sure of that.

“Do I have to die at your hand for the plant to help you achieve your dream instead of hindering you?” Vlerion didn’t look at her as he asked the question.

“I… what?” An inkling of what he was getting at teased her mind, but she didn’t want her guess to be correct.

“Is it enough that I die? Or do you have to be the one to drive the dagger through my heart?”

“I don’t know. The plant didn’t lay out rules. But you’re not going to die. I’m on a quest to end your curse, not your life.”

“Even though it is your own life you should be concerned about right now.” Vlerion lifted a hand toward her, but he caught himself and lowered it again without touching her.

Gods, how she wanted him to be able to touch her whenever he wanted. Even if he did it presumptuously and pompously like the haughty aristocrat he was.

“I’m not that bright,” she said.

“You are what you choose to be.”

“Well, then I don’t always make good choices.”

Vlerion smiled faintly. “That, I’ll agree, is true.”

“I’m going to find a way to lift your curse, and you’re not going to consider… whatever weird thing you were considering when talking about your death.” Kaylina frowned at him.

He chuckled. “Not suicide or anything like that. I’m not that dedicated to seeing your meadery become a success.”

“Good. Right now, it doesn’t even exist.”

“I was simply musing that the life of a ranger is always dangerous, and with all that’s happening right now, my life is in an even more precarious state than usual. Should a Kar’ruk blade—or druid vine—take me down, it would be nice to die knowing that plant would allow you to start your business.”

“You’re in a morbid mood today.”

“You might need to have the taybarri drag my body to the courtyard so the plant could see it.”

“Vlerion.”

“I would not be offended, should I be dead already, if you drove a knife into my chest to make the plant believe you’d been responsible.”

Exasperated, Kaylina stepped in and gripped his arm again. Not out of a desire to be close to him this time but because she wanted to shake some sense into him.

“I’m not going to stab you or your dead body with a knife, and I insist you do your best not to die.”

“So you presume to give me orders.” Vlerion smiled more genuinely than he had at any point in the conversation. Leave it to a ranger to find talk of his own death amusing.

“Yes, I do. You should be honored that I care and have stopped calling you pirate.”

“Perhaps so. I might mention that to Targon as an indication that I’m managing to instill reverence in you.”

“If you vow to live and give me time to find a way to lift your curse, I’ll call you my lord in front of him.” Kaylina wished she had a clue about how she might lift his curse. The sad smile he issued whenever she spoke of it promised he didn’t believe it was possible.

“Such proof of your reverence would doubtless cause him to pin medals on my chest for my superior training abilities.”

Kaylina snorted but also smiled, relieved he was off the morbid subject of his death.

“Oh, Kaylina,” Vlerion said softly, his gaze snagging on her smile—on her mouth. He swept her into his arms and pressed his lips to her neck.

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