Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

S he was waiting for him.

Dressed in her darkest, simplest gown, when Alden knocked, Elara opened the door.

"We are going back down," she said. But Alden did not move.

"I will go anywhere you wish me to. But the forfeit to do so is a kiss."

She needed no further prompting. Elara fell into his arms, Alden pulling her into him. His lips moved over hers, warm and increasingly familiar. His large hand rubbed circles on her back, making Elara nearly forget why she had asked for him to come early.

Reluctantly pulling away, she told him now. "There is a gallery

above the great hall. We can get to it from here. 'Twas used once, I assume, for musicians. I wish to watch the maid's every movement."

"And my role?" he asked. "To watch you?"

She grinned. "Nay, to observe alongside me."

Still, he did not move. "You could have easily done so without me, Elara. Admit you wish for my presence. To press up against me." He pulled her close once again. "In that tight space."

Groaning, she let herself be drawn in, temporarily.

"I wish for you to stand guard," Elara clarified. "If I wanted to be close to you, I'd do so right here."

"I do not believe you," he said, kissing her nose. "But will come anyway."

With that, Alden turned and headed back down the stairs. For a moment, she did not follow. That final kiss, not even on her lips. Somehow, it felt more intimate. Why it should give her pause when the things they'd done over these past days were so much more than a simple kiss on her nose, Elara was not certain.

Shaking off the feeling, she followed him and guided Alden to the gallery. They would not be making their way all the way out, into the hall where musicians would play and be seen by all those below. Instead, they would remain to the side, in the shadows.

"If you stay there," she said, pointing to a spot where Alden could see both the stairs they'd climbed and a bit of the hall below, "you can see anyone who might be coming up here. I do not think it will happen as this remains unused, but to be certain...it would not do well for us to be found up here together."

"And where, pray tell," he whispered back, "shall we go if someone does come this way? Across there?" He pointed to the exposed galley. "Where all below can see?"

"Nay," she said, resigned. "You will kiss me. Better to be caught in an embrace than to raise other suspicions."

It had been their plan from the start. Disgraced was better than dead—a very real possibility for many she loved, perhaps including herself, if the traitor were to reveal them.

"That," he said, moving into position, "I am glad to do."

Leaning against the wall, Alden looked less like a spy and more like a casual observer to both the meal below them to his right and stairwell to his left.

Although she hated to admit as much, she reminded him. "The knightly code of chivalric conduct would not go well with our plan."

His smile vanished. Alden looked at her, though Elara could not discern his expression.

"Being the son of a blacksmith does not go well with it either." He shrugged, as if he did not care, but she knew otherwise.

Elara wished to offer words of encouragement, but she did not wish to offer false hope. Being here made it possible, in some ways, but becoming a knight, elevating the station that Alden was born into, would be difficult indeed.

Instead, she gave her attention to the hall below.

Lila had not made an appearance yet, and naught else seemed to be amiss.

"We found nothing," she whispered to Alden, "that would implicate the maid in such a scheme. Ada reported nothing that would indicate she has been doing anything other than performing her duties."

In response, Alden reached out his hand. He cupped it, as if asking Elara to take it.

She did.

He squeezed, smiling. And then let go.

"I simply wished to touch you," he said, turning back toward the hall.

Again, like the kiss earlier, the simple gesture spoke of something more between them. More than desire. That was present, in abundance, but there was...simply, more.

"Tell me of your childhood," she replied, still watching.

In hushed voices, they quietly spoke of Alden's siblings. His mother, whom he revered, and a father who had obviously made an impression on him, but who was tough too. He had a temper, Alden claimed, and so they'd learned when to push, and when to retreat.

"Not unlike my own father's teachings," she said, watching Lila, who'd come out from the kitchens with two pitchers in her hands. "Knowing when to retreat is a necessary skill."

"You speak of him often, but never of your mother. I know only she died giving birth to you, but surely your father spoke of her?"

Lila refilled mugs of ale, speaking to the recruits and other servants.

"He said she was the kindest person he had ever met. The daughter of a minor baron, she had been arranged to marry another man but fell in love with my father. Her parents, my grandparents, had both succumbed to the coughing illness years before, and so she was a ward of the crown. If not for my father's connections at court, they'd never have been allowed to marry."

"A love match."

She turned from the hall to Alden. "Aye."

The look that passed between them was not one Elara wished to dwell on. Neither was the constriction in her chest as they spoke or the memory of his sweet kiss on the tip of her nose.

Elara watched Lila once again.

She disappeared back toward the kitchens.

"Do you wish to marry for love, Elara?"

It was so quietly asked, she shifted her gaze back to Alden once again.

"Such a thing is rare. I never expected it."

His face, so handsomely put together, yet hard and fearsome looking at times, softened.

"Your choice of words is never accidental," he said.

"Nay," she agreed. "It is not."

Lila was back.

Expected.

Until now, Elara had assumed she would marry a man both she and her father agreed on. He'd told her once that he'd never force her, even if the king himself suggested it, into a marriage not of her choosing. But love? Nay, she had not expected a love match.

Because she had not thought to fall in love.

Elara thought again of that kiss. Of Alden reaching out for her hand. Of the nights, and mornings, she woke alone in her bed wishing him to be by her side.

Love is rare, child. Your mother and I were lucky. For a time, at least.

She should have asked what it felt like to be in love. But she had not. Elara did not wish it, to feel as her father did, pining for someone for an entire lifetime. Better to focus on what could be controlled rather on what could not.

"Alden," she whispered. "Do you see this?"

"I do."

Lila had served Eamon and then Stirling, but just as she was about to move away, Lord Stirling caught the maid's hand. She paused, looking down at him and leaning over. He whispered something to her, and the maid quickly moved away.

For the remainder of the meal, they watched Lila move among the men. Aside from the exchange with Stirling, however, nothing else she did seemed out of place.

"Elara," Alden whispered suddenly. "Someone comes."

Impossible. None used this space, or at least, Elara had never seen anyone up here.

He quickly pulled her to him. Kissing her, Alden did not stop when the voices below them increased in volume. It seemed as if someone were, indeed, just below their position at the bottom of the stairwell.

He kissed her as the low mumbles continued.

He kissed her despite Elara's growing panic that they would, indeed, be caught.

He kissed her as Elara saw herself riding away from Castle Blackwood, disgraced.

And then, he stopped. The voices had ceased as well. None came up to the gallery, but they'd simply gathered below.

"You wished for an excuse to kiss me," she teased as the gallery became silent once again.

"Perhaps."

But Alden's smile did not reach his eyes. He'd been worried, as she had. To be caught with her? For his reputation? Both, she assumed. Alden no more wished to be disgraced than she.

"We should go separately," she said.

Alden never asked his silent question. He looked into her eyes, and it was there. Am I not coming to your chamber? But he never said it aloud.

She wished him to come. Tonight, and every night. But Elara wished for something even more.

For her not to love him.

Unfortunately, it might be too late for that particular wish to come true.