She nodded in understanding. “Roi,” she repeated in that soft, soothing tone he found so alluring. “I like that. I would be greatly honored if you would call me Diara.”
“Your father called you Deedee.”
She grinned. “Like you, I inherited a childhood sobriquet.”
“What do you prefer?”
“Whatever you choose,” she said. “I will answer to either.”
He smiled because she was, but there was something more to it. As he gazed at her, he could feel the warmth from those eyes. They were the color of periwinkle, as he remembered, but he hadn’t remembered them being so magnetic. As if he couldn’t look away from her. That giddy feeling he’d been experiencing was only getting worse, which was quite surprising, considering the last time he’d felt giddy was probably back when he was courting Odette. He couldn’t decide whether it was thrilling or foolish.
He settled on just a little bit thrilling.
“Then I shall decide how to address you depending on the situation,” he said. “And thank you for giving me permission.”
“It is my pleasure, my lord. I mean… Roi.”
He laughed softly, and she joined him. In a private meeting that could have turned out so badly, they had found common ground and a surprising bit of honesty. Roi had to admit that the conversation—and Diara—had been nothing as he had expected. Frankly, he was flabbergasted by the whole thing, but not in a bad way.
In a way that gave him hope.
“I’m assuming your mother has a grand feast planned for this evening,” he said. “I’m further assuming that your father is on the other side of that door, his ear pressed against it, wondering what we’re speaking of. Now that we have briefly spoken, it would be kind to let him in.”
“Must we?”
Roi snorted. “Of course not,” he said. “If you do not wish it, then he can remain out there as long as you desire.”
“Good,” she said, suddenly looking around the chamber. “But I do not see any wine. I would pour you some because you must be weary from your journey.”
“I am, a little.”
She rose from her chair. “Then I am afraid we must open the door to allow the refreshments in,” she said. “I do not wish for you to suffer.”
She was standing in front of him in that glorious red dress, and Roi had a difficult time not looking at what was straight in front of him. He struggled to look her in the eye.
“Trust me when I tell you that I am not suffering,” he said. “But opening the door to let the servants bring food and drink would not be unacceptable.”
Diara scurried over to the door, putting her hand on the latch. But she didn’t open it right away. Instead, she paused and looked at him.
“You said earlier that we should take this evening and decide if we truly want to enter into this marriage,” she said. “I… I do not think I need all evening to decide.”
His eyes glimmered faintly. “Nor do I.”
“I have decided that I am agreeable if you are.”
“I decided that the moment you walked into the chamber.”
With a smile that set Roi’s heart to thumping, Diara opened the door to an impatient father.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Well done, mylady,” Roi said, lips twitching with a smile. “Where did you learn to shoot with such skill?”
Diara still had the bow in her hand. “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t only taught domestic things that are expected of women,” she said coyly. “Carisbrooke was a wealth of learning opportunities, and archery was one of them.”
“I can see that.”
“If you need me upon the battlements the next time the barbarians attack, I am at your disposal.”
