Amaris planted her face into a palm. “He’s insufferable sometimes.”Maybe she was a little upset about her limited freedom to even go to the bathroom by herself.
“He’s been like that since he’s been back.” Pricilla sat and pulled her knee under her. “He only came back last season, and he…well…he wasn’t so happy anymore.”
Amaris jabbed a finger over her shoulder. “That man, happy?”
“Believe it or not, he used to be quite boisterous,” she sighed. “Arrogant at times, but he also loved to laugh.”
Standing, Amaris gripped the journal to her chest. She needed to run back up the stairs before he thought she’d actually tried to escape. “Did he want to go?”
“They all did back then,” Pricilla whispered, her expression further fading to sorrow.
Amaris wanted to stay and console her, but she had to go. “Can I borrow this?”
Pricilla nodded, and Amaris was jogging down the aisle of books, hoping she’d catch up to Theodoric before he had a temper tantrum. She ran toward the tower and bounded up the steps, barely taking notice of the darkness as the torches burned out. She rounded the next landing and smacked into the wall.
Nope, scratch that. Theodoric’s ridiculously muscular chest. She stumbled back, her feet sliding off the edge of the steps. He grasped her shoulders, keeping her from meeting an untimely demise.
“Do you ever skip chest day?” Amaris groaned, rubbing her nose, which had gotten the brunt of his impenetrable force.
“What are you doing? I said I was coming back to escort you.”
“I know. I was talking with Pricilla,” she muttered, gripping her nose until the burning subsided.
Maybe she’d be like him and have a concussion, lasting her weeks. He’d finally allowed her to make him something the other day, after she grew tired of him wincing and groaning about it. Her exact words had been,Let me make you a tonic, or I’m making good on your father’s accusations and smothering you with one of Pricilla’s stained couch cushions. He hadn’t complained since.
“You must be careful—”
“Oh please, Pricilla is likely the last person who would spout off to your father about me. She keeps to those books of hers.”
“I’m well aware that she’s a wallflower, but there are others who enjoy the privacy of the library at night.”
Amaris squinted, attempting to make out whatever details of his face she could. With Pricilla’s grief-stricken expression, she wondered if there was more to their relationship. It was odd, she referred to him asCaptain, but he’d brushed her tear away the other day.
“Have you and Pricilla ever…?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know?” Amaris muttered, combing through her hair. Asking about his relationships seemed too personal, but her lips kept going. “Knocking boots, bedroom rodeo, doing squat thrusts in the cucumber patch?”I hang out with Viv too much.
“Are you attempting to ask if Pricilla and I have ever had intimate relations?” Annoyance seeped from him.
“I was going to say bumping uglies, but if you want to be all sophisticated, then yeah.” Amaris smiled, feeling completely stupid.
“No, Pricilla and I are—”
“No judgment if you two—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” he groaned.
“I was going to say if you’re childhood friends, that’s cool too. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” She couldn’t see the expression he gave her, but she knew it wasn’t a smile. She was thankful he couldn’t see her face either, or the embarrassment spreading across her cheeks.
“As we both have a love for books, we’ve become acquainted with one another.”
“Acquainted?” Amaris questioned. “Seriously, you can’t say the wordfriends? Do you even have those?”
“I do have friends, but she prefers to refer to me by my title. As a servant of the manor, she has declined an official friendship.”
Amaris let out a long and exaggerated groan, brushing his hold on her arms. “That sounds like formal garbage. Why can’t you be normal?”
