In Which Ietrin Gives His Word

September 2, 1171

"El, how noticeable are these bags under my eyes? Can you see them from over there?"

In truth, the bags were the least of Ietrin's concerns. Ellona had scarcely said a word to him all morning, and as hard as he was trying to keep a level head for the day, he didn't think he could make it if she wouldn't speak to him. "El?"

"You look fine." She pried herself from the couch cushions and strained to sit up straight. "I'm surprised you even care, anyway."

Startled, he turned away from his reflection and looked at her--looked at her not looking at him. She sat with the stillness of a quiet pool, but her eyes were aflame as if they housed a thousand torches. In her frosty, fiery anger, she still managed to be beautiful: her alabaster skin, her kissable mouth, her dark curls pulled back in an elaborate knot yet still struggling against their bounds. Had his father promised him to someone like her--magnificent even in her misery, with her raven hair and piercing eyes--he would have walked down that aisle without reservation. A pity she was only a knight's daughter. She might have made a splendid queen.

"Oh, you're not jealous, are you?" He joined her on the couch, trying to smile as best he could manage today; somehow, it was easier when he was looking at her. "Nothing's going to change, really. Sure, we might have to start meeting in your room, but other than that..." Other than what? He had no idea what he was saying. Things were going to change--but with any luck, they wouldn't change much.

Ellona sniffed. "You dare flatter yourself by thinking I'd be jealous over you?" He blinked; at last, a grin broke out on her face. "I'm kidding, you idiot."

"Oh." Feeling a little foolish, he reached toward her and placed his fingers on the exposed skin of her shoulder, letting them spider across her back as she leaned toward him, until at last his arm had exhausted its reach. "Sorry. I think we're both a little distracted today."

"So it seems."

She snuggled up against him, the edge of her silk slipper running up and down his leg; content for the first time since he'd woken, Ietrin sighed. "I'm giving you that castle by the lake."

As if she thought he must have been joking, Ellona snorted. "Wasn't your father saving that one for one of your brothers?"

Ietrin shrugged. "I convinced him that the smaller, uglier ones were more defensible."

"So I get the pretty, big castle, but woe unto me if ever it's attacked?"

"Pretty much."

He leaned inward and kissed her on the cheek; in turn, she did him one better and nipped his earlobe. "But I trust you'll be there to fend off invaders more often than not?"

"Well, naturally." Ietrin laced his free arm under Ellona's legs and pulled her onto his lap. She was tall for a girl, but somehow managed to be light as a feather. "What sort of man would I be could I not defend my lady?"

Her finger tracing the edge of his shoulder blade, she placed her forehead to his and sighed. It was not a resigned sigh, or an enamored sigh; in truth, he was not sure what sort of sigh it was. "Do I have your word?"

"Yes, my love." He did not think it possible to lie to her. All he could do was pull her closer and whisper, "You have my word."

NEXT CHAPTER: