Page 48 of The Sword and the Damsel
Robert gave a sullen shrug and left.
Blood pounded in Victor’s head, screaming for him to chase after Robert and end him. He shook with rage and the urge to shed blood. Only his father’s hand on his collar kept him still. He was tempted to break away but knew his father would never forgive him.
“Peace, Victor. Let him go. He’s bitter and disappointed. It’s no excuse for what he said, but I can’t let you do something you’ll regret.” His father released him at last. “You should see to your wife. She looks unwell.”
Oh God. Alais.
All the color had drained from her face. She sat hunched in her chair, squeezing the fabric of her skirt into balls.
He gently pulled her hands away from the fabric and into his own. “Alais?”
A tear dripped down her cheek, and then another.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms and thumbing away her tears.
He led her away to his old room. His father had never changed it, even though it had been years since he had lived in it. There were the old swords he collected in his youth over the mantle. Three bows of varying sizes were propped up in the corner. A dusty lute sat on a threadbare chair. The bed was small, but the bedding was freshly laundered. He helped her lay down, taking off her shoes and loosening the laces of her dress so that she could breathe more freely. He took off his boots and joined her on the narrow bed, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her.
“I’m never going to escape this, am I?” she asked, burying her face in his chest. “It’s going to follow me forever. Now your father’s going to wonder, just like my father did. It’s never going to end.”
She rested her head beneath his chin, and he caressed her hair. He didn’t trust himself to say anything. He wanted to tear Robert limb from limb.
“I was having such a lovely day too.” She propped herself up to look at him. “Thank you for today. It was wonderful.” She kissed him with aching tenderness. Her sweetness only intensified his fury at Robert. How could he hurt her? How couldanyoneever want to hurt her?
“I’m going to kill him.” He probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.
“No, please don’t! I don’t want anyone to die over this. I already feel awful enough. That would only make everything worse.”
Victor gritted his teeth. He couldn’t take revenge against her wishes, but everything in him urged violence. He was done with Robert.
“Victor?” She hovered above him and stroked his hair. He was undone by the plea in her eyes.
“Yes?”
“You won’t, will you?”
He took a deep breath. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
She closed her eyes and then settled back down against his chest. “Maybe we could leave him with those sisters with the cat from the song, though. That seems like a fitting revenge.”
He chuckled. “Or cut off all his hair and make him wear a wimple.”
She giggled. She was so beautiful when she giggled. He kissed her. It felt strange to be able to just do that. He did it again to prove to himself that he could. Her whole body curved toward his when he touched her lips.
“Mm. Did you have anything else planned for today?”
“I did, but I don’t imagine you’d be interested under the circumstances.”
“Oh? What was it?”
“I wanted to make amends for my hurtful behavior last night by worshipping every inch of your divine form as you deserve.”
Her eyes flashed with desire at his words. It still felt like a miracle that he could make her feel such things, and he prayed it always would. He traced a finger along her jaw, and her lips parted. Her chin inclined toward his. As he leaned in to kiss her, he stopped short, holding the tension, feeling the sweet pull as she leaned closer, hungry for him, eager for contact. Giving in atlast, he touched his lips to hers, welcoming the soft pressure and the gentle tug followed by a delicate taste.
“I’m interested,” she murmured between kisses.
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
