Andrew grinned, a teasing glint back in his eyes. “How very British of you.”
She couldn’t help a small smile in return, thinking how true it was: no matter the chaos or the danger, a Brit rarely admitted when they were anything less than perfectly fine.
He moved his hand to the small of her back once more and guided her in the direction of the library. She really needed to not like the small comforting touches he was offering lately.
Sitting on the sofa by the library’s fire sipping a hot cocoa courtesy of Juliette, the three of them waited for Harold and the detective to arrive. Isla couldn’t help but feel uneasy as her friend and Andrew flanked her ... again. One on each side of her. Déjà vu rolled off the situation in waves. How else was her life going to be upended? The arrival of an Aetherian detective felt like an ominous sign.
“So, Polar Knight,” Juliette said with a grin, settling herself back against the cushions. “How did your first day on guard duty go?”
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking to me?”
“I certainly am, my good fellow. I need to know that Her Majesty who happens to be my very best friend is safe under your care, Sir Knight.”
Isla giggled at Juliette’s teasing, and the sound seemed to bring Andrew pleasure, as his smile grew when he looked at her. Juliette was light and playful and Isla was grateful for it. The saying “if you don’t laugh, then you’ll cry” was precisely how she was feeling right now.
“Well, the first day of guard duty was a privilege.” His eyes moved from Juliette’s to Isla’s—she expected them to be teasing, but their depths held sincerity. “Being near Isla is always an honor for a lowly knight such as myself.”
She studied his serious eyes, unsure of his meaning. After a moment she saw mischief returning to replace the intensity. He looked down at himself in a self-deprecating way. “Though I am hardly a man built like a knight of old, I have won the fair maiden’s favor, and she is to have dinner with me tonight.”
Juliette laughed, looking delighted.
Isla went from pondering how she actually quite liked the look of Andrew’s slim, lean body to spluttering as she attempted to deny that she had agreed to have dinner. “I don’t think—”
Purposeful footsteps cut off her protest, but this time Isla didn’t appreciate Harold’s timely interruption. She had every intention of refusing dinner, thank you very much.
With Harold walked a tall, muscular man, moving with confident ease. Dark red wavy hair, a neatly trimmed beard, broad shoulders, and a dark suit—he was a fine specimen ofmasculinity. The two men spoke in hushed tones, their attention not yet on the group.
The three of them stood, preparing to greet them. Juliette immediately fanned herself, a delighted grin on her face. “He’s a handsome one, Isla. Definitely knight material.” Although she spoke the words to Isla, leaning close as she did so, it was loud enough for Andrew to hear as she heard him huff at her statement.
Studying the newcomer, Isla had to agree. The man looked every bit the knight-errant of old—if knights came with perfect hair, tailored suits, and a jawline that could carve marble.
“Handsome,” Isla muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s one way to describe him.”
She sensed Andrew move closer to her side as the two men looked up.
The newcomer’s eyes scanned the group, taking them in, collecting details. He definitely had the aura of a detective. A warrior detective.
He towered over them as he drew close and Harold made introductions.
“May I introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Edmund Whitmore. He’s a war veteran, now a detective by government orders, and a Ventus Summoner. You will find no better man than him to discover who is behind these attacks.”
As if she couldn’t help herself, Juliette said, “Ooh, we should call you Storm Lord.” Her eyes looked a little twitterpated, reminding Isla of Thumper in the movieBambithey had recently watched. Juliette had cried and looked over at Isla constantly when Bambi’s mother had died, worried she would be upset.
“Excuse me?” Edmund’s deep voice asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Juliette smiled brightly up at him.
Isla couldn’t blame the girl for staring; he was extremely handsome, rugged, and strong. Just as she had that thought, she felt a coolness surround her ankles, and looking down, she saw that Andrew had created the smallest of ice platforms beneath each of his shoes. Barely noticeable. They were very slowly lifting him up, making him a few inches taller.
Harold was saying something to Edmund—the God of Thunder, who was nodding in agreement.
“Andrew,” Isla asked quietly, “are you trying to make yourself look taller?”
Andrew narrowed his eyes at her, though there was no malice in it. “Well, can you blame me?” he grumbled, looking back at Edmund with disgust.
Isla contained her laugh and turned her attention back to the conversation.
“Isla, I need to talk to you first. Harold has filled me in on your attack last night, and that it was you who discovered the body this morning?”
