Page 142 of The Throne Seeker
“What does it mean?”
He diverted his gaze, hesitant to answer. “It’s the most respected name a soldier can be given. It’s an old term for someone young like me who, though inexperienced with battle, is bold, recklessly courageous, and doesn’t back down in a fight. Someone who has a sense of fair play and doesn’t fight those weaker than him.”
“If it’s an honor, why do you look unhappy they call you that?”
Roman’s eyes fell to the water between them. “Because it’s a title I don’t believe I deserve.”
She couldn’t stand him looking so sad. She took his jaw gently in her hand, forcing his eyes to meet hers. He didn’t resist her in the slightest. “Usually, someone who says they don’t deserve something is exactly the one who deserves it.”
He didn’t say anything, simply looking back and forth between her eyes.
“IfIstarted calling you that, would you believe it then?” she asked, challenging him.
His throat bobbed as he held her gaze steadfast. “I told you—I’ll never doubt you again.”
“Then that’s what I’ll call you when you start to doubt yourself… Drengr,” she said, the name rolling off her tongue.
His body shivered against hers, his arms tightening around her waist, bringing her closer.
“Now you know how I feel when you call me Roe,” she joked.
His eyes flashed with surprise while hers filled with horror, realizing she’d said the words aloud.
“I just meant—I just mean…” All she did was make herself sound more ridiculous.
He put a finger up to her lips, stopping her. “I know what you meant,” he whispered, looking down at his thumb as he traced her bottom lip, causing something deep within her to stir.
She was set free when he dropped his hand back into the water, but as that same hand ran along her exposed thigh to hold her again, it made the desire in her turn ravenous. She wondered how his hands would feel in more sensitive places?—
Tristan’s face flashed in her mind.
“I think we should go back,” she whispered, her voice not coming out as strong as she wanted it to.
He nodded, but his hands pressed her closer as he began to trudge his way back to the staircase. “You did well,” he praised.
“It’s easy with you,” she said, realizing as she spoke the words that she truly felt that way.
Roman’s fingers gripped her waist one final time before lowering her onto the stairs.
She instantly regretted her decision to leave the water when the cold mountain air hit her wet skin. Her hands shook as she grabbed her dress off the ground with Roman close behind.
He held his hand out. “Come on.”
When she extended her own, he grabbed it and urged her along as they ran back. Roman brought her to another set of doors leading towards the back entry.
Warmer air greeted them as soon as they stepped over the threshold. She expected him to slow down, but he sped up, running with his hand still in hers. He cocked his head back to look at her as a nostalgic grin spread on his face—playfully, he tried to trip her, sticking his foot out obviously.
A game they used to play.
She returned the smile, trying to trip him back. He avoided her foot easily, earning a deep, rich laugh at her failed attempt.
The euphoric sound made her heart flutter like a hummingbird.
“You’re just as terrible at this now as you were back then,” he taunted.
And with one sentence, he unleashed her competitive side, driving her to go faster.
They raced up the main stairs, praying Gretta wouldn’t see them dripping water in their underwear. When they reached the top of the stairs, they continued to dash through the hall of windows, racing against each other, playing in the bright moonlight.
