“L’Corte,” I chide, “there is nothing to forgive. Neither of us could have guessed that I’d stumble across a prisoner while looking for a storage room.”
L’Corte’s disbelieving snort tells me what he thinks of my assertion. “I’ve never met someone who can find trouble like you do,” L’Corte informs me archly. I poke him in his side to let him know what I think of his judgement. The way he jolts in my arms makes me giggle. Oh my, someone’s ticklish.
Looking up at L’Corte’s face, I rest my chin on his chest. He shakes his head at me fondly, then tucks a bit of my hair behind my ear.
“May I escort you to the storage room?” L’Corte asks.
“You may,” I respond, grinning at how he’s recovered from his scare enough to return to his formal way of speaking. We’re one “I do declare!” away from a historical romance movie. Maybe I’ll try swooning so he’ll have to carry me.
Tucking me under his arm, L’Corte puts his body between me and Vorto as we walk past the prison cell. Vorto is speaking intently to several Cerasteans, including the chancellor.
“Trinh! Trinh Le!” Vorto calls out to me, his voice pleading and desperate. “Would you please tell Sara that I am sorry?”
L’Corte whirls toward Vorto, thrusting himself in front of me. “Leave Trinh alone. You don’t so much as let her name pass your unworthy lips, or I will gladly watch the light leave your eyes,” he snarls.
Well. Hello there, my over-protective knight in matte-black armor. Is it wrong that I’m enjoying this a little bit? I’ve never had a guy ready to slay dragons and defend my honor before. As long as he doesn’t start treating me like I’m weak and brainless, I’m going to enjoy him jumping between me and any perceived danger.
I try to nudge my protector out of the way so I can speak to Vorto, but he is immovable. It’s like trying to shove a boulder.
L’Corte whirls back around to face me. “No one would fault you for ignoring him. You never have to even acknowledge his existence. You owe him nothing.”
“It’s okay, L’Corte. I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I’m safe when you’re here. It’s going to be okay. There is nothing he can say or do that could hurt me.”
Peaking around L’Corte’s side, I look at Vorto’s sad-puppy face. “I will tell Sara that you are sorry.”
“Do you think she will forgive me?” Vorto asks quietly.
“I have no idea. She might never forgive you. That’s her right. The real apology will be your actions from here on out. Words without action mean nothing.”
“You are right, Trinh Le. I have much to make up for,” he responds, his face lighting up with earnestness.
I look up at L’Corte, a pleased grin plastered across my face. L’Corte stares at me like he has no idea what to do with me.
“With your permission, Chancellor, I would like to escort Miss Le to the storage room, and then safely off this floor,” L’Corte calls out to L’Forn without breaking his steady eye contact with me.
“Of course. I’m glad you’re safe, Miss Le,” L’Forn says with a small bow in my direction.
L’Corte laces his fingers with mine and gently tugs me away from the small crowd.
“I have much I’d like to discuss with you about Queen Diamalla,” I hear Vorto say to L’Forn as I am led back toward the elevator.
As we retrace my earlier steps, L’Corte keeps looking me over like he’s convinced I’m injured, or like I might disappear if he doesn’t keep an eye on me. I wiggle my fingers a little in his because of how tightly he’s gripping my hand.
“Sorry,” L’Corte says sheepishly, relaxing his hold. “Are you sure you are okay? I imagine talking to Vorto might have been frightening or overwhelming.”
“I wasn’t really scared. Mostly just shocked and then pissed off,” I say with a shrug.
L’Corte chuckles at my response. “How did you get him to talk? We haven’t been able to get any coherent information from him. He’s either been in an uncontrollable rage or mumbling nonsense to himself.”
“Uh, well… I told him that his queen was a bitch.”
I don’t realize L’Corte has stopped in his tracks until the tug on my hand alerts me that he isn’t moving. Looking back, I see him frozen with his mouth hanging open.
“You told him…”
L’Corte just stares at me wide-eyed without blinking. I’m not even sure he’s breathing. Suddenly he has a full-body shudder, and a noise emerges from his mouth that sounds like a strange mix of rusty door and angry cat. Have I finally broken him?
As L’Corte continues to make the strange braying noise, it dawns on me that he’s laughing. He’s laughing so hard that his entire frame is shaking. It shouldn’t be sexy, but it is. It just is.
