He hesitated. He did not have a sign for what her voice was. Did not have words in any language for the way her endless chatter filled the hollow spaces inside him, for the way her presence made the cold stone walls of Greywatch feel almost like a home.
Good,he finished, knowing it was inadequate.Your voice is good.
Her flush deepened, but she smiled—a real smile, not the brittle defensive thing she sometimes wore. “Well, that’s... that’s very kind. Most people find it exhausting. ‘Elodie, do shut up.’ ‘Elodie, we get the point.’ ‘Elodie, for God’s sake, take a breath.’” She mimicked the voices with theatrical exasperation. “But you just... listen. It’s strange. Good strange, but strange.”
I have had enough of silence, he signed.I find I prefer your womanly chatter.
She laughed at that—a startled, delighted sound that did something complicated to his chest. “Right. Yes. Well. I can certainly provide noise. Industrial quantities of noise. You’ll be begging for silence within the week, I promise you.”
He would not. He knew this with a certainty that frightened him.
Come,he signed instead.We have much to discuss. Alaric arrives in a sen’night.
The laughter faded from her face, replaced by something more serious. “Yes. Right. The snake in the garden.” She fell into step beside him as he moved toward the keep. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually. About what he might want, what he might try. I know I’m not exactly a military strategist, but I’ve read quite a lot of history—lived it now, I suppose, which is still completely mental—and men like Alaric, they don’t make direct attacks. They’re too clever for that. They find weaknesses. Pressure points. Things you care about that they can threaten.”
You think he will threaten you.He wanted to growl the words.
“I think he’ll threaten anything he can get his hands on.” She stopped at the base of the keep’s steps, looking up at him with those enchanting green eyes. “I know you told me to stay close, to be careful, and I will. I’m not actually suicidal, despite what my career choices might suggest. But I also know that if he sees me as leverage over you, the safest thing might be for me to disappear entirely. Hide somewhere until he’s gone. Not give him a target.”
No.The sign was sharp, emphatic.You will not hide. You will stand beside me.
Her eyebrows rose. “I thought you said I was dangerous. That he would use me.”
He will try.Gareth held her gaze, willing her to understand.He will fail. You are under my protection. I will not hide you away like something shameful. You are part of this household.
For a long moment, she simply stared at him. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
He did not know how to explain that he had never meant anything more. That the thought of her cowering in some hidden room while Alaric stalked his halls made something violent surge through his blood. That he wanted her beside him—not because she could fight, not because she could help, but simply because her presence made him stronger.
Instead, he signed.You spoke for me yesterday. In front of the messenger. You defended me.
“Well, yes. He was being a prat.”
No one has defended me in three years.
She blinked. “That’s... that’s terribly sad, actually. Someone should have been defending you. Several someones. An entire army of someones.” Her voice had gone soft. “You deserve to be defended, Gareth. You deserve someone in your corner.”
The words struck him like a physical blow. He stood frozen on the steps, this beautiful woman looking up at him with something in her eyes that he was afraid to name.
Why?he signed finally.Why do you say such things? You do not know what I have done. The men I have killed. The?—
“I know enough.” She cut him off with a firmness that surprised them both. “I know you saved my life when you could have left me in that forest. You gave me shelter when you could have turned me away.” Her chin lifted. “I know you’re a good man, Gareth de Clare. Whatever happened with Alaric, whatever you’ve done—you’re a good man. And I’ll defend you to anyone who says otherwise.”
He could not breathe. Three years of silence. Three years of isolation, of building walls, of convincing himself that he deserved nothing better than cold stone and colder solitude. And here stood this woman—this small, fierce, enchanting woman—declaring that he was good. Declaring that she would fight for him.
Gareth wanted to speak. God’s blood, how he wanted to speak. Wanted to tell her what her words meant, what her presence meant, what she had become to him in the short weeks since she had tumbled into his life. The words gathered in his chest like a storm building on the horizon.
But when he opened his mouth, only silence emerged.
My thanks,he signed instead. The gesture felt hollow. Inadequate. A pale shadow of everything he wanted to say.
She seemed to understand. Elodie reached out and touched his arm—just a brief pressure, there and gone—and the warmth of it lingered long after she had pulled away.
“Right,” she said, her voice slightly unsteady. “Well. Preparations. Alaric. Snakes in gardens. We should probably focus on that, shouldn’t we, instead of standing here having a moment on the steps. Very romantic, very dramatic, but not particularly practical.”
Yes.He gestured toward the door.Bertram will have the household accounts. We should review our supplies.
“Lead on, then. I’ll try to contain my swooning over my very own knight in shining armor.”
