I strode forward, entering Penellaphe’s chambers before her after her evening stroll. The space was empty and chilled despite the crackling flames in the fireplace.
“Will you also be checking beneath the bed?” Penellaphe asked as I crossed the chamber. “Or in the bathing chamber?”
Grinning, I nudged open the door to that exact room. “I’m very thorough when it comes to my duty, Princess.”
“Uh-huh.” She clasped her hands loosely in front of her. “There’s no one here but us.”
One quick glance at the darkened bathing chamber confirmed as much.
Not that I expected anyone to be in here. It was just the perfect excuse to ask her a few questions in private and spend some time with her.
I faced her, noting that she’d partially closed the chamber door, leaving it open a scant few inches. Which meant no one would be able to see inside the chamber unless they put some effort into it. The door was supposed to be left open, and each time it had been closed, I did it. This was progress.
“Your chambers are always so cold.” I went to the fireplace and picked up the poker.
“I never noticed that,” she replied dryly.
“I imagine it’s those windows.” I nodded in their direction as I knelt by the hearth. “The stone around them is degrading.”
“I suppose that is one of the many causes. There are many drafty
sections along the outer wall.” Her veiled head tipped back as she looked.
“The high ceilings also don’t help, but I like them—the height. It makes the chamber seem more…spacious.”
I was sure she did when she spent most of her time in here. I moved the logs around, creating air pockets. “There must be more spacious chambers in the newer wings of the castle.”
“There are.”
I looked over my shoulder at her. She’d inched closer. “Is there a reason they would place you, the Chosen child of the gods, in the most decrepit part of the castle?”
Penellaphe’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “They didn’t.” She moved a few more inches toward me. “I did.”
That hadn’t been the answer I’d expected. “And why would you choose that?”
One white-draped shoulder rose. “I just prefer the older wing.”
I stoked the flames, taking stock of the chamber once more. The narrow door by the windows, the one I was sure led to the old servants’ staircase.
The corners of my lips tipped up. “That seems like an odd preference.”
“Perhaps.” She was quiet for a moment. “Your chambers? They are in this wing also?”
“Do you ask because you’d like to visit?” I placed the poker aside.
The lower half of her cheeks pinked. “That was not why I was asking.” “You sure?” I teased, damn well knowing it wasn’t the reason, but I
enjoyed the flush creeping along the lower half of her face. “It’s okay if it was.”
Her chin rose. “It wasn’t.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Waking to her would be an unexpected delight, unlike what had occurred with Britta.
“Forget I even asked,” she muttered.
I chuckled, also enjoying her quick-to-surface ire. “Yes, my chambers are a floor below.” Brushing my hands on my pants, I rose. “Though the ceiling is not as high as your chambers, nor is it as cold.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I mean that your chambers are comfortable.” Her clasped fingers relaxed, even as the skin beneath her veil continued to deepen in color. “Do you still have your quarters at the dorm?”
I nodded.
“Do you stay at them?” The hem of her white robes glided silently over the stone as she came forward. “I don’t think Vikter stays at his often.”
“I haven’t since I became your servant.”
“You’re not my servant,” she quickly corrected.
“But I am here to serve you.” I tilted my head, watching the lower half of her face closely. The skin there. Her mouth. “In whatever way necessary.”
Penellaphe huffed out a noise that almost sounded like a laugh. “You are my guard, not my servant. You serve as my protection and…”
“And?”
“And you serve as a source of irritation.”
I laughed deeply. “You wound me yet again, Princess.”
“Doubtful.” There was a twitch to her lips as if she were fighting a smile. “And don’t call me that.”
I grinned at her. “I was disappointed this evening, by the way.”
“By what?” She’d stopped coming closer. The gold chains of her veil twinkled in the lamplight.
“I hoped you would ask to take a walk in the garden.”
“Oh.” She drew her plump lower lip between her teeth as she looked at the windows. “I…I thought about it.” A forlorn sigh left her, tugging at my chest. “I do miss those walks.”
An emotion I didn’t want to recognize festered. Guilt. My gaze followed hers to the blue-black sky beyond. Just for a moment, I allowed myself to wish I had chosen a different location in which to move my plan forward— somewhere she hadn’t found peace. Then I wouldn’t have stolen that from her.
“Maybe another night this week, after the Rite,” she said.
I turned to her, finding that she had been watching me. “Of course,” I lied. Clearing my mind of what I’d already cost her wasn’t easy, but I thought of my brother. The peace that had been stolen from him. That did the job. “As I said, I live to serve you.”
Her sigh was impressive. “Then you must live a rather boring life.”
“I did.” I dipped my chin as I slowly made my way to where she stood, just beyond the little sitting areas she had created by the fire. “Until I
became your…” I swore I felt her eyes narrowing. “Protector.” “Guard,” she clarified.
“Now, I’m a bit confused.” I crossed the distance, stopping when there was only about half a foot between us. I watched her closely, trying to
gauge her reaction to my proximity. Her pulse kicked up, but she didn’t back away. “Aren’t guard and protector the same thing?”
“I don’t believe so. One is simply guarding, the other is protecting.”
My brows knitted as I looked over at her. “Again, are they not the same?”
“No.”
“Explain.” I saw that two of the chains on the top of the veil were twisted together.
“Guarding…is more passive. Protecting is proactive,” she said, a small grin appearing, one I could only describe as her being pleased with herself.
“Both require passiveness and preparedness,” I countered. One shoulder lifted again. “Well, it’s just my opinion.” “Clearly,” I murmured.
Penellaphe’s head tilted to the side. “I don’t believe your services are needed any longer this evening.”
“So, I am at your service?”
“Apparently not, if you’re still standing here,” she quipped.
Another laugh left me, tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I will be out of your…veil soon enough.”
“Out of my veil?” she repeated. “Shouldn’t that be out of my hair?”
“Yes, but since I can’t see your hair, I thought veil made more sense.” “You are…”
“What?” Silence.
“Don’t be shy.”
The chest of her lacy robes lifted with a deep breath. “You are strange.” “Well, I for sure thought you would say something far more insulting
than that, but speaking of your veil,” I said, lifting a hand. She stiffened as I reached for her. Her pulse skittered now. “Your chains are tangled.”
“Oh,” Penellaphe whispered, clearing her throat. She lifted her hand. “I got it.” My hand brushed hers as I slid my fingers under the chains.
Her soft inhale and the sudden thickness of fresh, sweet scent brought a tight smile to my lips as I leaned in. “I did wonder something.”
“And what would that be?”
The breathiness of her words touched my throat and heated my blood. “I was thinking about when the Teermans addressed the people.” I gently began untangling the chains, discovering that they were as heavy as I had imagined. “Many in the crowd weren’t happy, and not just because of the
attack.”
She said nothing as I worked the length of chain, but her hands had unclasped and fallen to her sides.
“How did you know some in the crowd may grow violent?” I asked, though I wouldn’t call Lev’s actions all that violent.
“I…I didn’t know for sure,” she answered. Her fingers twitched. “I just saw the way they were moving closer and their expressions.”
“You have very good eyesight, then.” I continued tugging the chains apart, even though a small child could’ve completed the task by now, but I was taking my time.
“I suppose.”
“I was surprised.” I kept an eye on her as I slowly worked the chains free, catching every tiny reaction. Her breathing had picked up, along with her pulse. Her fingers had stilled. “You caught sight of what many of the
guards didn’t.”
“But you noticed.”
“It is my job to notice, Princess.”
“And because I am the Chosen, I suppose it is not my duty to take note of such things?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you—?” Her breath snagged as I reached the end of the chains, and the backs of my fingers brushed her shoulder. “What are you
saying?”
My attention shot back to her face. Those lips parted as I turned a single chain so it faced up. I could feel that the material of her gown was thinner than expected. Her reaction surprised me, yet didn’t. I hadn’t forgotten how incredibly responsive she was to touch, but the graze of my hand wasn’t much of a caress. Then again, other than Tawny and perhaps Vikter, who touched her? With kindness? Any contact would likely feel extreme to her, sensual or not. She would be easy to seduce and coax into all manner of
things forbidden to her.
“I was saying that your observational skills were a surprise,” I answered her question. “And that has nothing to do with who you are. There were a lot of people out there. A lot of faces, and a lot of bodies moving.”
“I know.” Her right hand lifted a few inches, then she jerked it back to her side. “I just happened to look at them at the right moment.”
Had she been about to touch me? I thought so. Instead of feeling a surge of satisfaction, all I felt was want. Hot, heavy want.
“What do you think will happen to that man?” she asked.
Drawing my hand from the chains before I tore the damn veil from her head and did something reckless but also very pleasurable, I looked down at Penellaphe. Her head was tipped back, and she had—
Shock rolled through me.
Penellaphe had moved closer. Maybe an inch or so separated us, but that wasn’t what surprised me. It was the fact that I hadn’t been aware of it.
A huge part of me wished I hadn’t noticed it now, either. With as close as we stood, it would be all too easy to lower my mouth to hers. I wanted to know how she would react. Would she protest? Or relent?
But it was too risky for various reasons. One of them even more so than the knowledge that anyone could walk by the chamber and peer inside, or that I may even frighten and overwhelm her. I wanted to know what her lips tasted like without whiskey on mine too badly.
“Hawke?”
I blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“I asked what you thought would happen to that man.”
That question should’ve cooled my blood. “He’ll probably be questioned and then sentenced.” I stepped back, my shoulders tensing at the thought of Lev. Word from Jansen was that the Descenter still lived. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “There will be no trial, but I
imagine you already know that.”
“Yes.” Her fingers went to a row of small beads down the center of her bodice. “But sometimes they…”
I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Sometimes they what?” Penellaphe shook her head. “Do we even know if he truly is a
Descenter?”
The question intrigued me. “Does it matter?” Her head cut away. “Likely not.”
“He recited the words the Descenters often use,” I said. “I imagine that is what he is.”
She nodded, and I watched her as silence fell between us. I always watched her, but it felt different at the moment. Like I was searching for something. What, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t even figure it out after I bid her goodnight and returned to the hall before Vikter arrived for his shift. But I had the distinct feeling—one that was so strong, even though I had no idea what it was I looked for—that it would be better if I didn’t find whatever it was.
