He peered at her. She frowned, and slowly, finally, lowered the spoon. Thank the Maker for small miracles.
“I’m no good with words in the morning,” Niel growled. “But if I sound like I’m going to bite your head off, I’mnot. Just like I didn’t throw you in the dungeon or kill your men. I didn’t summon you to breakfast to torment you, Lady Blackfell. I just wanted to fuckingeat.”
“I thought you didn’t have the key to the dungeon, in any case,” she said quietly. He was surprised she was bold enough to say that, with all the terror he’d seen etched in her body a moment before.
“That annoyance. I’m sure I could figure something out,” he said grimly, and dug his spoon back into the porridge moodily. “My point is, stop fretting. You’re safe, so long as you don’t try to harm me. I’ve no plans to ask you to do anything but wake when I wake and eat when I eat, to keep your loyal staff from trying anything else. But Mercy, woman, I can't live on an empty stomach, so can youpleasemanage a bite of the damned bread? I’ve been eyeing it since it came out of the oven.”
Was it his imagination, or did she fight back a smile?
The lady reached forward to tear off a section. He stared at her mouth again as she bit into it, then broke his eyes free and reached forward to help himself to a hunk of the loaf. Ayla’s chewing slowed. She turned her head slightly and stared out the window, the half-eaten piece of bread still raised in her fingers.
She was truly beautiful. It was almost impossible to take his eyes off of her.
“Do you always wake this early?” she wanted to know.
“It’s morning,” he answered brusquely.
He saw her dip her head a moment, as if silencing herself. But the silence only lasted a moment.
“Not yet, it isn’t.”
“Sun’s coming up,” Niel replied.
It was good bread. He took another bite.
She turned her wide gray eyes on him, both eyebrows delicately arched. Unconsciously, he straightened his shoulders.
“It’s black out the window.”
He glanced the way she’d been looking, chewed, swallowed, and shrugged.
“Can’t see the stars anymore,” Niel said. The lady tilted her head quizzically, but didn’t say anything. “Sun’ll be upsoon,” he added. “That makes it morning. Doyoualways sleep in?”
“I wake at an acceptable time,” she said reproachfully. “Atsunrise.” She yawned, as if to prove her point.
He stared at her as she covered her soft, parted lips delicately with one hand, eyes fluttering slowly back open.
Niel knew he was not a desirable companion, no matter the hour. He was his father’s son: a tool honed to violence, and good at nothing else. So what, if the lady was safe in his keeping. He’d taken over her castle and dragged her from her bed before dawn to test for poison. It didn’t mean he had to keep her there, after she’d done her job.
“Go,” he told her roughly.
“What?” she turned to look at him, suddenly far more alert than she had been before.
“If you aren’t hungry yet, go. You’ve already done what I needed you to.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her food. “If I can’t get food from the kitchens later, though…”
“Take it with you. For when you hunger.”
If his father were there, he’d have punished Niel for being softhearted. But Niel didn’t miss the lady’s blush. How could he, when his whole body seemed to react to her slightest movements? She got up, and curtseyed with her bowl in one hand and the mug in the other. He waited until she’d left to sigh, and finished the meal with nothing but the fire to stare at.
The skydidbrighten, as it did every morning. He took stock of the Lord of Blackfell’s wardrobe again, hoping some of the clothes might have decided to grow since yesterday, but came to the same conclusion as before. Niel had lost some fat during the months of war and marching through the mountains, leaving his muscles starkly visible instead of padded. But he was still a large man. He could fit the socks, and the cloaks, but he was too tall and brawny to make use of the rest, which meant he was stuck with the same clothes he’d carried to the war at Ironcliff and back home from it.
He was going to be a frequent guest at the castle’s laundry. At least he’d gotten stuck here at winter, not summer, when clothes had to be changed more often.
He stripped down to his braies and a shirt to exercise, not wanting to get sweat on anything he could avoid, and shivered as he put his body through its paces, running the castle wall in loops until the sky was blue, then returning inside to hone his skill with fist and sword and knife. The sun was dominant in the sky by the time he dressed again and walked a loop of the castle's interior, keeping an eye on his soldiers and the servants. On a quick step back out on the wall he spotted Lady Blackfell making her way across the yard to the stables. He stared for a long moment after she’d vanished inside the wooden structure, and wondered if she was desperate enough to try an escape.
When she emerged with a dapple gray horse on a long exercise line and a lunging whip, he decided he was thinking about his hostage too much and made his way back inside.
