She gathered the books she was done with in her arms and descended to the floor below, legs shaking the whole way, pausing twice to lean against the wall and rest. At last, after what had felt like a monumental trek, she braced herself in front of Ditmar’s door. Steadying her shoulders, Ayla knocked and waited.
A moment passed. What if Niel was down in the dungeon, finishing the job? What if he’d already killed the other knight, despite having agreed not to do so yet? He'd broken one oath. What was to stop him from breaking another? She took a step uncomfortably away from the door just before it swung open.
Kerr, Niel’s blonde captain, gave her a polite nod.
“Lady Blackfell. Do you need something?”
“Is Niel in?” She shifted the books in her arms. Kerr tilted his head to the side as he observed her.
“You didn’t know? He moved rooms.”
“What?”
“Two doors over,” Kerr said, pointing down the right side of the hall. Ayla turned to follow his finger, frowning. The room Kerr was pointing at was comfortably appointed, but a small, simple room, not a lord’s suite. Ditmar had kept it for visiting nobility.
“Sincewhen?”
“Dunno. Three, four days.”
“Four days,” she echoed. That was when she’d gotten sick. But it couldn’t be because of that—because of her. Because she’d told him that she hated Ditmar’s rooms.
No. Perhaps he was just sick of them himself, after his own convalescence in the lord’s bedchamber.
“Did you want me to give him the books?” Kerr asked. His tone was polite, but short, as if he wished she’d leave.
“They were from this room.”
Kerr reached for them, and she relinquished the books.
“About the prisoner,” Ayla said abruptly. “Would it not be best? If his lordship kept the codes?”
Kerr snorted.
“He’s got a hatred of Ashbrins a mile deep, lady. No talking sense into him about it.”
“But if the other side knows he’s killing prisoners, won’t they just do the same?”
“For all they know, everyone who entered died,” Kerr told her. “Are the books all you came for?” He’d tucked them under one arm and had another hand on the door as if eager to close it.
“But wouldn’t an Ashbrin knight be worth a fine ransom?”
Kerr huffed a breath.
“Mayhap, lady,” he told her, and started to close the door. She dipped in a shallow curtsey, and made her way back upstairs without any new books. Stripping down to her wool shift, she sank back into bed and stared at the few remaining books she had left. Not feeling any of them call to her, Ayla picked up the one on the top of the stack.
WhyhadNiel changed rooms? She opened the book and tried to put the thought from her mind.
He was a contradiction of violence and kindness. She didn’t know how to parse that tangle.
Her nose was still buried in the book when someone knocked on the door. It swung open before she could answer. The first thing she saw entering wasn’t a man, but the legs of a table. Ayla blinked and lowered her book as Niel squeezed in through the doorway, maneuvering the table they’d eaten lunch at. He silently set it down in front of the hearth, then left, barely sparing a glance at her. Now that she noticed, it was beginning to grow dark outside.
He was back soon after, with chairs—two of them, which was a little surprising given how the afternoon had gone. She marked her page with a bit of ribbon, folded her hands on her lap, and watched. Soon the knight was back with two bowls of stew. He set one on the table, then hesitated, looking at her. She raised an eyebrow at him.
He squeezed his broad frame around the table and approached the bed, bowl in hand.
“I’ll eat at the table,” she said.
He didn’t nod; he just turned and set the bowl down, then took the further chair, leaving her the one directly in front of the fire. Ayla pulled herself out of bed, wishing she’d dressed in something less intimate than a slip, or at least worn stays beneath it, so it wouldn’t drape so revealingly over her chest. She pulled a cloak out of her wardrobe, feeling the knight’s eyes on her all the while, and wrapped it around her shoulders. Settling slowly into her chair, she delicately sniffed the heavy, dark stew, and picked up the spoon that had been balanced in the bowl.
