His hand comes up to my jaw, slow enough that I could step back. His palm is warm and rough, and it fits against my face like it was measured for me.
I put my hand flat against his chest.
Not to stop him.
To see whether his heart is doing the same thing as mine.
It is.
Then he leans down and kisses me.
The kiss is slow and careful, the way everything he does with me is careful. I rise onto my toes because I want more. He makes a small sound against my mouth, surprise or surrender, and his other hand finds my back.
For several seconds, I forget the cold entirely.
Inside, the violin trio plays for people who are married and brave.
Out here, a dressmaker kisses a lord, and no needle breaks, no shop burns, and the world does absolutely nothing to stop us.
When our lips part, neither of us goes far. His forehead rests against mine, which should be comical given his size and tusks.
Instead, it is the gentlest thing that has ever happened to me.
"That," I whisper, "was reckless of you, my lord."
"Yes." His thumb moves once along my jaw. "I'm told I'm difficult."
"I don't think so. I think you guard yourself because you guard everyone else."
He is quiet for a moment.
Then he slips his hand into mine.
"Come on. It's freezing, and they'll be missing the artist who made Brynna's beautiful dress."
13
LISSY
The door doesn't open so much as it nearly explodes off its hinges.
"LISSY!" Saskia bursts into my shop in full training leathers, a practice sword across her back and mud to her knees. She spreads her arms like she's greeting a crowd. Or addressing an army. Depending on the context, either would fit. "It's dress day!"
"It's dress day," I agree. "Did you come straight from the training yard?"
"I came straight from winning at the training yard." She drops into the chair across from my desk, which groans under her weight. "Duran's youngest brother said orc forms are too rigid to counter a dryad spear-line. So I demonstrated." She grins. "He'll walk properly by the wedding, I think."
"Whose wedding?” I ask good-naturedly. “His?"
"Mine!” Saskia claps her hands in front of my face, making me blink. “Focus, Lissy. My wedding. It’s dress day!"
Behind her, Torgan slips into the corner chair again. I look around her at the orc lord, wondering what I’m supposed to doin this case. He has his newspaper raised like a shield. A part of me deflates. I thought we got past this at Brynna’s wedding.
He doesn't say a word. Doesn’t even look at me.
It's been six days since the courtyard.
Six days since he kissed me under a lantern with his hand along my jaw. Now he's sitting in my shop behind The Battle Times while I get ready to take his sister's measurements, and neither of us has figured out where to put our eyes.
