She flung the door open and marched into the hall. Cinnia held up her hands filled with ribbons, a small pot of lip balm and a brush. “I have everything. I’ll even braid your hair for you.”
Louvaen looped her arm through Cinnia’s and offered what she hoped was an easy smile. “You’ll likely kill me for this, but can I have what’s in your ewer? I used mine to rinse my mouth out. Hideous potion the sorcerer gave me. And Clarimond piled the bed with so many blankets to keep me warm, I baked under them. I need a wash—and more water.”
She didn’t give Cinnia time to answer, pushing her back toward her room. The urge to glance over her shoulder and see if Ballard managed to sneak away almost overwhelmed her, but she resisted. If she looked, so would Cinnia.
They made it to Cinnia’s room without mishap. Louvaen delayed them with small talk and repeated assurances that she was thawed out and perfectly fine after her plunge into the icy pond. Ballard was gone by the time they returned. He’d made the bed and left the blankets they’d worn as coverings folded neatly in one of the chairs. Louvaen sighed. She saw no trace of him, yet she fancied his presence lingered. The blood in her veins still ran hot from the memory of his caresses, the feel of his body against hers, inside her.
“Lou, are you sure you’re recovered?” Cinnia eyed her, gripping the hair brush like a cudgel.
Lou hugged her. “Stop worrying, and help me. I need to bathe and dress before Magda marches up here threatening murder if we’re late for supper.”
They made it to the kitchens as Magda was setting out the various platters of food. Gavin and Ambrose were already seated, as was Ballard. He watched Louvaen with an intensity that should have set fire to her frock as she took her customary place at the table. Ambrose smiled into his goblet, his gaze flicking back and forth between her and Ballard. Supper was an easy, chatty affair, despite the scare Louvaen had given them earlier in the day. They discussed final plans for Modrnicht, and Louvaen did her best not to gaze moon-eyed at Ballard as he made no effort to disguise the fact he undressed her with his eyes.
She hoped they wouldn’t spend much time in the solar. Between the long hours of sleep and Ambrose’s restorative, she was wide awake, restless and eager to accept Ballard’s offer to share his bed. He’d warned her she’d get no sleep. She made note to ask him later if that was a threat or a promise. But all her daydreaming and machinations were soon dashed. Cinnia held her hand between both of hers. Her brown eyes carried the same haunted expression Louvaen had seen earlier, and her lower lip quivered.
“Lou, would you sleep in my room tonight?”
Louvaen stared at her sister as if she’d sprouted two more heads. “Your room?”
A low choking noise drifted from the head of the table. Ballard had his goblet to his mouth. The dark eyes watching her over the cup’s brim blazed.
Cinnia gripped her hands harder. “Yes. My bed is big and has plenty of room for the both of us. I’d sleep better if you...” She paused and gnawed at her lip, her eyes filling with tears.
Gut twisting at the idea she’d frightened Cinnia so badly, Louvaen brushed the girl’s cheek. “Of course, love. I’ll stay with you tonight.” She glanced a second time at Ballard. He’d returned his goblet to the table and stared at his charger with such a black scowl, the food on it should have shriveled into lumps of charcoal.
Cinnia beamed and hugged her. “I promise not to kick too much.”
Louvaen pulled away from her with a scowl. “If you plant your foot in my back as you tend to do, I will shove you straight out of the bed, and you can sleep on the floor.”
The girl held up her hands. “No kicking or stealing covers. Promise.”
Their evening gathering in the solar was abbreviated. Ballard sat in his chair, thin-lipped and grim as Louvaen read aloud from a book of poetry and avoided his gaze. She knew her face reflected the same disappointment she saw in his eyes, the same need, the same want. Ambrose had excused himself from the gathering, citing a wish to spend the evening with Magda. That only made Ballard’s visage darken even more. Gavin watched his father with a contemplative stare. Cinnia spun wool rovings on the great wheel until a series of yawns made her give up.
The girl stood and stretched her back. “I can’t stay awake.” She bowed to Ballard. “We ask your pardon to retire,dominus.”
“Granted,” he said abruptly and frowned at the fire in the hearth.
Louvaen abandoned her book on the nearby table. Gavin had taken Cinnia’s hand to wish her good night by kissing her fingers. Louvaen cleared her throat. “De Lovet, why don’t you escort my sister to her room.” Two sets of eyebrows shot up. “Just to the threshold, mind. I’ll be there in a moment. I have something to discuss with his lordship.” The words had barely left her mouth before the two bolted.
“If anyone was standing in the way outside, they’re trampled now.” Ballard’s dour expression had lightened, a hint of amusement playing about his lips.
Louvaen came to stand in front of him, pushing with her knees until he opened his, and she stood between his legs. “One day fortune shall favor me, and it will be your sorcerer in the path.” She took one of his hands. “I couldn’t refuse her, Ballard. Were our places reversed, and she’d been the one you rescued, Gavin would have to chain me to the wall to keep me from her, and I’d practically be laced into her bodice for days to make sure she was recovered. What she asks of me is far less than what I’d demand of her.”
He sighed and brought her hand to his mouth. His lips drifted gently over her wrist. “Your devotion to your sister is an admirable thing. And a torment for me.”
She smiled. “You’ll not be alone in your suffering, nor are you released from your offer. I intend to make myself comfortable in your big bed and expect you to keep me warm as promised.”
Ballard’s eyes gleamed obsidian in the firelight. He tugged until she hovered over him, close enough that he burrowed his nose into her shallow cleavage. Louvaen teased the waves in his hair, sighing as his tongue flickered over the swell of one breast. “How long?” he murmured. “How long do I wait?”
She ran a finger over one of the raised scars that rutted his cheek. “Just tonight I think. We shared a bed as children. It was a constant battle over the blankets, the pillows and space on the mattress.” She smiled at his hopeful expression. “She’ll be as weary of me as I will be of her by morning.”
“Then I look forward to morning.”
Louvaen chuckled and eased out of his embrace. “I must go. I suspect Gavin’s interpretation of the threshold is much further into her chamber than mine is. And Cinnia will only encourage him.”
Ballard captured a fold of her skirt. “Kiss me before you go.”
She twitched the skirt out of his grasp and shook her head. “No.”
