I realized that the first time I’d met Emmerick had not been when he detained me for breaking into the Luz palace.
It had been a long while before, on a very lonely night for me. I’d just traversed the desert and breached the crack in the Sahlms’ wards to gain information for Krait.
You hear a lot of vital things in pleasure halls. The women were privy to more about their patrons than one might expect.I’d befriended Leonna, who allowed me to blend in and eavesdrop.
A rowdy group of soldiers had visited on their way back to Luz, boasting about breaking up a rebel camp along the western border. All but one young man, who seemed green in the face at the thought of being there. It’d amused me, so I’d followed him into an empty chamber.
My hands dropped to my sides as I stared up at Emmerick in disbelief. The angles of his face had hardened up since, his muscles bulkier, and he kept his hair trimmed tighter. But now I could see it was him.
“Did the woman who cared for you have red hair by chance?” I asked him as a knowing smirk crept across my face. “And did she jump on the bed and make lewd noises for a little while to get the men to stop hooting and hollering at the door?”
I’d met him thirty-two years prior.
His mouth dropped open. “No,” he denied. “I mean, yes... she did. But no, please tell me you’re not implying...”
“That it was me, puppy? That I spent a night patting the back of a young man’s head while he apologized as profusely as he vomited? I made a whole ten coins that night and didn’t even need to take off my tunic.”
“I might be sick all over again.” He ran his free hand down his face.
I laughed. Someone foolhardy may have called it fate—I viewed it as a sign that I would always bethatwoman for him. The one along his path to greatness but not at the end.
I’d enjoy the moments I got while they lasted and brace for my meddling heart to shatter.
“If you survived that night, then surely you can survive a few conversations with the eligible women of the North Court who are eager to meet you. There might even be a pretty florist wandering somewhere.”
He sighed and shook his head, glancing uneasily around the room. Happy that my memory had distracted him from the plummet of self-loathing he’d gone down, I let myself take him in once more.
Irresistible. A bane on my will to let him go—that’s what seeing him in formal wear did to my weak, depraved senses.
“I’ve no business wooing women. There are bigger things to worry about tonight—chiefly, the young man trailing Lark like a lost puppy...”
“Chicken shit.”
His brows rose.
“You’re just scared that you’re rusty. Admit it,” I playfully demanded.
His voice lowered to a deep simmer. “That is not at all the reason.”
“Practice on me. Woo me,” I said far too quickly, wanting to dispel any of his lingering thoughts of the treachery that Caym had subjected him to. Selfishly, I reveled in having his attention before I pushed him away to another.
I needed no wooing. At this rate, he could forget my name and I’d still want to kiss him.
So much for leaving that foolish girl behind me. My mind and my heart were at war.
He rubbed his neck, cheeks flushing that marvelous shade of mauve. “Youcannot be wooed.”
“Not with that attitude,” I teased and turned and looked around for an unsuspecting victim. It pained me. “But fine, then I will find you someone else.”
“No.” He took me by the shoulders and pivoted me back toward him. We still stood in an alcove where a large painting of the Hussa Mountains hung.
A mischievous glint of interest lit his eyes. Rosemary and warm spice tickled my nose as he leaned down.
Would he kiss me right here? The possibility of such open affection left me yearning for a taste of him.
He whispered, so close his lips brushed my earlobe, “Elsedora, how am I to speak with anyone else tonight when your presence leaves me breathless? I’m going to dream about the way you look in that gown. And what distracts me more is that I know what lies beneath it. You are beyond beautiful. You are indescribable.”
My breath caught.
