Page 29 of Knightfall
“No.”
“War? A plague? No. Wait. You actually did hear reports of dragons?” he whispered savagely.
“I fell in love with you. Those were the circumstances.” I snapped.
His jaw dropped.
But he didn’t look happy. Or relieved. Or anything positive. He only looked shocked.
Suddenly, Connor snatched up my hand and tucked it forcefully into the crook of his elbow. He leaned close and fingered my curls.
His face radiated fury, but his posture looked like the doting husband from behind, as three tittering noble girls trotted past us on their way to the tutor. Giggles drifted down the hall behind them.
Connor didn’t acknowledge my words as he began leading us at breakneck speed across the palace. As the chief diplomatic arm of the crown, Connor generally knew where everyone was. Which also meant he knew where everyone wasn’t. We wove through the halls seeing only the minimum of people, until we rounded a corner and nearly tumbled into Lady Agatha and her portly son, Willard.
“Good morning!” Lady Agatha was decked out in white pearls and a white dress that matched her white poof of hair. The only spots of color were the rouge in her cheeks and lips. Next to her pristine outfit, poor Willard looked a mess. His manservant missed a spot shaving, so he had a little patch on one cheek. His shirt was partially untucked.
“Morning Lady Agatha, you look just gorgeous,” Connor turned on the charm.
Lady Agatha’s holdings were vast. She and her husbands held ranch lands to the northwest and raised cattle, which fed many of our soldiers or were traded with the country of Cheryn.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” I showed my teeth at the mother and son, but I wasn’t quite certain I’d smiled. I think my fake smiling skills had grown rusty during my four-year stint outside the palace. I took a deep breath and tried harder to mask my hurting heart.
I grabbed Connor’s hand and interwove our fingers, partially because I needed his social grace to cover me in this moment and partially because I missed him that much. His hand stiffened in mine, but his face remained a mask of propriety.
“Not many beautiful days left! My old bones can feel it. The winter will be here soon enough.” Lady Agatha eyed our hands, as expected. “And you two look just as thick as thieves once more. Easy to pick up where you left off?”
“Four years later, and I’m still stunned each time she walks into the room,” Connor’s look was easy, but I recognized the tightness at the edges of his mouth. It wasn’t a compliment, but a cut. Connor was always able to find a way to say he was fine when he wasn’t. He was raised by a family who made their fortune from sales. You had to read between the lines with him. Because he would always find words to say what he truly meant. Stunned. Was he shocked I came back? Or stunned like a man who’s been smacked in the head? Dazed and hurt? He expected me to leave again, that much was clear in mother’s chambers. So, I supposed dazed and hurt each time he saw me would be accurate.
I stretched my ‘court-smile’ further and fought the tears that came to my eyes. I’d destroyed the most precious thing in the world to me. His affection.
Connor sniffs lady’s underthings.
I blinked and stared at Willard. Did he just say that? But the mousy fellow was scuffing his shoe on a crack in the floor. Lady Agatha smacked him. “You know my Willard has always spoken fondly of you, don’t you, Princess Bloss?”
I brought myself back to the conversation, struggling for an appropriate response. I came up with, “As I have of him.”
Lady Agatha grinned, so my answer must have been decent enough. But Connor’s eyes narrowed slightly.
I ignored both of of them as we continued to the large banquet hall where tea had been set out at a table long enough to seat forty.
Lady Agatha prattled something to Connor and I used the moment to think on what I’d just heard. Or thought I’d heard.
I touched my free forearm, feeling the bump of the bandage beneath. Maybe my brain was still rattled from losing so much blood yesterday. That made more sense than Weeping Willard making a snarky comment about Connor. Willard had been the kid clinging to the tutor’s legs as the rest of us had waged the wars of childhood with flying ink pots and spitballs.
Lady Agatha smacked Willard’s arm and he jumped. “Didn’t you just say yesterday how happy you were that Bloss is back?”
“Yes. Yes. Mmhmm,” Willard rubbed his elbow and scooted slightly away from his mother.
“I know the pair of you are excited by the reunion, but can I steal your bride for a moment, Connor? Girl talk, you know,” Lady Agatha linked arms with me.
Connor let go of my hand. He clapped Willard on the shoulder as if they were old friends, draped an arm over the awkward man, and led the way to a table nearby, where breakfast was laid out and steaming. It was close enough that it wouldn’t activate the distance curse and drag me across the room, but far enough that Connor escaped Lady Agatha’s attention.
In other words, Connor left me with the snottiest but wealthiest noble in the palace on my arm. Alone. A woman I’d always avoided like the plague.
Sarding Lady Agatha! Really, Connor? I grumbled internally.
Immediately, a mental image of Lady Agatha naked and kneeling on the floor came to mind. Her paunchy husbands surrounded her and she had them each lift a bare foot. She grabbed the closest foot and gave a long sniff. Her body shuddered … as if stinky feet were orgasmic. She sniffed another.
