If she lived to be two thousand years old she would never forget the look of shock on his face.
What must he think of her?
She cast her gaze around until she found Draven moving to lean back against a fallen log with his sword and a crossbow resting next to him as he stared into the woods before him.
You should go to bed and leave the matter be.
That would be the wise thing to do. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that wise.
Forcing her feet to move, she went to his side.
He didn’t move at her approach.
“Can you not even sleep?” he asked when she came within hearing.
She knelt beside him, but he still didn’t look her way.
“Draven, I didn’t know what the book....”
Nay, that wasn’t what she should have said she realized as he looked at her with an arched brow.
“I am a maiden, milord,” she said even though the words were hard on her lips. “I don’t know what possessed Christina to give me such a…”s
He shook his head. “Speak no more of it. We shall forget the matter.”
Emily drew a deep breath, grateful for his mercy as she tucked her legs beneath her and adjusted her skirt around them.
“Don’t you think you should go to bed now?”
“I can’t sleep and I would rather stay here with you than toss in my bed, listening to Alys snore.”
“Why?”
Emily tilted her head to look at the confusion on his face. “Is it that hard to believe someone could desire your company?”
He finally turned to face her. “Aye,” he said simply. “No one ever has before. What makes you so different?”
“Perhaps because I am the only person you’ve ever had to be around. I would think your habit of being alone has pushed away even the most determined.”
“But not you.”
She smiled. “Not me. I am far more stubborn than most.”
“I would concur.”
Emily wanted to touch him, but something in his demeanor warned her not to. Instead, she leaned against the tree and stared into the dark forest.
Draven listened to the sound of her breathing. She was so close to him, yet not touching and still he could feel her presence as a physical touch.
“There was a man,” she said, breaking the silence, “who went to confession carrying a guinea fowl.”
Draven sighed wearily at yet another attempt to make him laugh.
Would she ever admit defeat?
“A guinea fowl?” Why did he bother to encourage her? And yet, he was unable to stop himself.
“Aye. He begged the priest, forgive me father for I have sinned. I just stole this guinea fowl to feed my starving children. Would you please take it from me so that I can be forgiven by Our Lord?
