In Which Xeta Gets as Good as a Promise

October 15, 1172

"I'm kind of surprised you let me in."

At her side, Xeta's fingers twitched. Why should he be surprised? It wasn't as if she'd been avoiding him; hell, in the past few months, they'd seen each other dozens of times. Never alone, though--maybe that was what he meant. Maybe she was stupid for not having thought of that before. Maybe they were both stupid, and for a lot of reasons. "Well, I did."

"I guess so." He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he stared at her for an awkward couple of minutes. She took to counting his freckles as she returned the look: twenty-six, twenty seven, twenty-eight... "Xeta?" Her gaze jolted from his nose to his eyes; damned if she'd ever seen such sorrow in that blue. "I'm sorry. You know that, right?"

Xeta nodded. "I know."

"I wasn't thinking, you know?" He scuffed his boot against the floor and sighed. "I just blurted it out. It was stupid, and it won't happen again."

"It won't." The silk ribbon at the front of her dress was as stifling and uncomfortable as any corset; Xeta took to wrapping one of its tails around her fingers, her eyes falling downward to watch. At least her hands could not look her in the eye. "I wasn't thinking either."

"You didn't do anything wrong." His words were automatic, maybe even sympathetic--but he needn't have bothered trying to reassure her. They both knew he was lying.

"I did." Her silk-wrapped fingers ceased as they reached the center of the bow; she pulled them loose and began afresh. "I was stupid enough to think you meant the other thing you said."

"Wait... what?"

Startled, she glanced up to see a confused, mildly mortified look sprawled across his features; if she hadn't known better, she might have thought she'd offended him. "You think I didn't mean it when I said I loved you?"

Wait... "You did?"

"Yes!" He reached forward and took her by the hands, causing her to stumble as he pulled her toward him. "Look, I know I can be kind of an ass sometimes, but I wouldn't go telling a girl I care about that I love her just to get her to lift her skirts." His left hand tightened, but his right rose to her face and began to comb through her hair; she felt herself growing red as the back of his hand brushed against her cheek. "I loved you Xeta--hell, I still love you. Do you still love me?"

For what felt like the first time in months, she smiled. "You know I do."

"Mmmm." He leaned forward and caught her in a brief, yet poignant kiss, his lips lingering firm on hers for a minute or so before parting. "I missed you."

"Let's just... go back to the way we were, shall we?" She hoped that wasn't too much of a stretch. It was possible... wasn't it?

"Agreed." He rested his hand upon her shoulder, his thumb landing just along the neckline; a pleasant coolness oozed forth from the colliding flesh. "And you know, the sex thing... well, I guess I just figured that it could really be something beautiful if we were in love. Not some disgusting thing we should have been ashamed of like the church is always railing about, but something special. Err... your mother didn't say anything about it being shameful, did she?"

Xeta shook her head. Her mother didn't make a point of talking about sex very often, but nothing that she had said had sounded at all as bad as some might have had a girl believe. "She said I'd enjoy it if I let myself--if with the right man, of course."

Jadin smirked. "Like a husband?"

"I guess so." Grinning, she stepped back and allowed herself to look him over; he seemed to have grown an inch or two since she'd last seen him up close. "Or maybe he wouldn't even have to be my husband just then. I suppose if a girl's betrothed to marry a man anyway, then why not?"

"What sort of betrothal, though?" He cocked his head to the side as she resumed fidgeting with the ribbon; perhaps she'd said a little too much. "An official betrothal? Or just a promise of sorts?"

"Uh... either or?" She supposed there couldn't be much harm in it--could there? The silk lace around her finger tightened; she pulled it free and let the ribbon fall back to her skirt. "If he intended to keep his promise, of course."

"With you, he would--no doubt about it." The smile on his lips was only outshone by the one in his eyes. He did love her--one could not look at another with such eyes if he didn't love her. They were the sort of eyes from which poems were made. "Whoever marries you will be a lucky man, Xeta. I just hope that maybe, he might be me."

Though his voice vanished, that loving look in his eyes remained. It was better than a poem, she decided. It was better than a song, a story. It was as good as a promise.

She grabbed hold of her ribbon once again--only this time, she pulled it downward.

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