“I’m sure you could.”
Simon ignored him and took Alys by the arm. “Hey, Alys, ‘twould appear you forgot to get your water. What say you that I accompany you back to the pond lest the boar return?”
“I would thank you most kindly for your chivalry, milord.”
“Another thank you with words.” Simon sighed. “Alas, what am I to do?”
Alys took the bucket from Emily and by the glint in her maid’s eye, Emily had a good idea that Alys would be thanking Simon with more than words.
Blushing at the thought of what her maid was about, Emily clasped her hands before her and faced Draven.
“You might ought to catch your maid,” Draven warned her as Alys and Simon disappeared from their sight. “I have a feeling my brother is after more than just a mere drink.”
“And I have a feeling Alys is as well.”
An awkward silence fell between them as they started back to camp.
“Oh, milord, what a sharp lance you have!”
Emily stumbled at Alys’ words.
Draven paused. “I’d best go?—”
“Nay.” She took his arm. “Leave them to their amusement.”
He looked askance at her. “There aren’t many ladies who would be so understanding of their maid’s behavior.”
“I should be mortified, I know. But Alys is a good friend to me and though she has her faults, she has a good and generous heart.”
“And is that all that matters to you?”
“Aye. People will always make mistakes, but in the end ‘tis their heart that matters most.”
“And if they have no heart at all?”
Emily hesitated at the strange note in his voice. “Everyone has a heart.”
He shook his head. “Not everyone.”
She pulled him to a stop. “Aye, Draven. Everyone. Do you know what I see when I look at you?”
Draven stared at her, both desperate and terrified of what she might say next. “I have no heart,” he confessed. “It was ripped out long ago.”
She placed her hand to his chest. Draven looked down. Her hand appeared so small and frail against his tunic as she splayed her fingers.
“For a man with no heart, you have a strong pounding in your chest.”
“That is but an organ.”
“Perhaps, but I know the truth of you. I have seen it.”
“And that is?”
Emily reveled in the heat of his skin that traveled up her arm and to her body. How she wished she could make him see himself through her eyes. For just one moment.
He had been hurt. She knew it. And though he might be the most feared warrior in Christendom, she sensed there was still a part of him vulnerable. A part of himself he had closed off from the world and if she could ever reach it, then she would hold the key to the heart he claimed he lacked.
“One day, Draven,” she whispered. “One day you will see the truth as I see it. You will come to know yourself.”
