Had she done something wrong? Said something inappropriate?
If so, what?
Chapter 33
Cole
The storage room was currently dark, lit only by the sliver of light sneaking in under the door. The scent of old wood and ale mingled with the musty smell of burlap sacks and spices.
Cole paced, his boots scuffing against the floor. His chest was tight, his thoughts tumbling over themselves like an avalanche.
She’d done it again. Swept the rug right out from under him.
Why did she always do that?
The door creaked open, and Mistel came inside. Cole slipped past and pushed the door shut a little too hard.
“What were you thinking?” he hissed. “Saying we’ll play at the funeral? We can’t possibly play at the funeral. We’re supposed to rescue my father tomorrow!”
Mistel crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to yell.”
“I’m not yelling.” But he was. His voice filled the tiny space, and he forced himself to take a breath. To calm down. “I just…Why do you make decisions without consulting the rest of us? Without consulting me?”
Mistel had the decency to look sheepish. “I don’t know. I just get an idea in my head and act. But don’t worry. The rescue will still happen. And it will be even better now.”
Cole fisted his hands in his hair and stared at her. “How is that possible? I’m not leaving you alone with Nash and Drustan to sing by yourself.”
“You won’t have to.” Her lips curled at the corners. “Because you’ll be there with me.”
He blinked, his thoughts stumbling to keep up. “How?”
She stepped closer and reached up, her fingers brushing the collar of his tunic in that infuriatingly casual way she had of dismantling his defenses. He jerked back and pushed her hand aside. “Don’t play. This is serious.”
“I know that.” Her gaze, so full of mischief moments ago, now held something deeper. A rebuke, if Cole wasn’t mistaken. “I wish you would trust me.”
Her words hit a nerve. “How can I? You’re always making split-second decisions. I never know what you’re going to do.”
She took his hands in hers, her touch steady, grounding. “This isn’t just about me, is it?” she asked. “It’s about your father. And the Fawsts. And Nya. But I’m not abandoning you or betraying you. I promise.”
He looked down, his throat tight. She saw right through him, as always.
“It’s going to be okay, my knightling,” she said. “You and I will be singing at the funeral while Kurtz and Zanna rescue your father. Verdot Amal will be at the funeral, as will Renshaw Thusk. This way, you and I can keep an eye on them while the others get your father out.”
Her plan clicked into place in his mind, easing the tension from his shoulders. Knowing where Verdot Amal and Renshaw Thusk were when Kurtz and Zanna went into Ice Island felt like less of a risk. “That’s actually better,” he admitted.
Mistel’s laugh bubbled out, light and triumphant. “I know.”
Cole couldn’t help smiling. Mistel was exasperating and unpredictable, but she was also brilliant. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Thank you.” His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, and her familiar scent of lemon and mint curled in his chest. He drew back long enough to glimpse those wide green eyes, then kissed her lips, finding them soft, warm, and familiar. His hands tangled in her curls, and the world outside the storage room disappeared.
A ribbon slipped free from her hair, fluttering to the floor, and her hair spilled down her back. She was gorgeous and smart and talented and funny and had a way of completely consuming him. He knew he shouldn’t keep this up—kissing her two days in a row—yet he shoved all caution aside and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer just as she pushed back.
“Cole!” she said, breathlessly, half scolding, half laughing. “You messed up my hair.”
The tension in his chest had been replaced with warmth. He grinned and combed his fingers through her wild curls, arranging them around her face. “I think it looks better down.”
She bent to pick up the ribbon and muttered, “Men,” though the corner of her mouth twitched. “Go tell Nash we’ll play for him. Poor fellow is probably heartbroken. I’ll be out after I fix this mess.”
“All right.” Yet he hesitated, his feet rooted to the floor. With so much uncertainty about tomorrow night, the funeral, and rescuing his father, Cole wanted this moment with Mistel to last. Here with her was exactly where he belonged.
