We fell silent as I swept aside the cloak, then threaded the cords through the holes, tightening them in place. In the quiet, her respirations matched my own, thick and labored.
At the neckline, my fingers skimmed her nape. The contact scorched my flesh, and goosebumps flared across Aspen’s skin, where a leaf symbol flourished.
Like an addict, I took liberties. Against my better judgment, I thumbed one brown curl of hair springing down her shoulder blades, the texture akin to fine silk.
With my hand roasting, I stepped away. “Done.”
Aspen wheeled to face me. “Thanks.”
More confounding silence. Her naked ass on that swing, that slick cunt awaiting my tongue, and her lips parting on a cry flashed before my eyes, followed by a montage of erotic imagery.
Aspen glimpsed the dull brown tunic and jacket clasping my frame, the same dangerous vignette occupying her thoughts.
She recovered quickly, girdling herself in the mantle. “Did you check on Nicu?”
I inclined my head. “Same as you.”
Purely assumption, but Aspen’s expression confirmed as much. She would never leave without looking in on the Royal Son, despite knowing I would do so as well.
I had visited with Nicu prior to our departure, checking that he remembered the plan verbatim, a method to ensure his safety. In case he forgot where we’d gone, my liege would repeat my last words to himself. This would prevent Nicu from trying to locate us, only to grow perplexed by the distance.
I did not care to leave him with Lyrik. Be that as it may, Nicu had demonstrated his ability to put that menace to society in his place. In the interim, my liege would tend to the horses and exercise the animals in a roundabout until our return, the tasks sparing him from interacting with the explosives delinquent in our midst.
For my part, lack of battle gear did not concern me. Nevertheless, I reconsidered Aspen’s ensemble and her cleavage on display.
Heat scorched my glowering face. “You need thicker layers.”
She hitched one shoulder. “I’m living on the edge.”
“Not my favorite answer.”
“Not a surprise.”
“Threadbare fabric will not block an arrow.”
“Honey, threadbare fabric has kept me in one piece since puberty.”
“The axe and your skills have kept you in one piece,” I countered. “The rest was up to chance.”
“Then give me knighthood,” she baited. “And I’ll wear chainmail next time.”
Saucy minx. I had the authority to bestow her with that rank, yet I knew this woman’s true passions better. She wouldn’t care to be dubbed on a whim instead of at a pivotal turning point when the circumstances held meaning.
Aspen’s profile shadowed as she contemplated the path ahead, pockmarked by cloven hoof prints. Regardless of her veneer, concern knotted in my stomach. Aware of the reason, I gave her my full attention and waited.
Aspen steeled her posture. Her eyes clicked to mine. “I’ve never seen it,” she admitted.
The oak. The tree that branded Aspen and plagued her mother.
I stepped forward to brace her shoulder. “You’re not alone.” When she didn’t tug herself away, my fingers dove and shielded her hand in my own. “I’m with you.”
Because I have always been with you.
Aspen’s posture eased. Regardless, shame tainted her voice. “I never tried to find the oak on my own. I could have searched for the tree and… I don’t know. Asked it to spare my mother, traded something if it meant freeing her mind from torture. I thought of it and wanted to, but I was a coward.”
“Do not say that,” I grated. “The Masters were exploiting you. You spent your life looking after your mother, even whenyou were too young. You have nothing to atone for. Nor does your mother.”
“The oak penalized her through me. She took from its trunk.”
