“I fault myself for that,” Verice said. “I should have had a chaperone, a handmaiden or—”
“I don’t fault you,” Warna said. “And I don’t regret a moment of it, either.” She let her gaze fall to her lap. “I do feel bad that Blesenthala thinks she killed a child,” she started, but then in her mind’s eye she saw the Queen’s expression as she stared over her teacup. “But she knew exactly what she was doing, didn’t she? She may not have thought I might be pregnant, but she certainly meant me ill.”
“You certainly caught her off guard,” Verice said. “What with the vomit on her shoes.”
“But not on her lap,” Warna admitted with a smile.
Verice looked at her, the laughter in his eyes slowly fading. “So that is where it stands now. Stalemate. Hopefully, a peaceful stalemate. Not that I will relax my guard just yet.”
“So that just leaves us,” Warna blurted out.
Verice jerked his head in a nod.
Gathering her nerve, Warna sat up straight on the bench. “Verice,” she started, her words catching in her throat.
He raised an eyebrow, and waited for her to continue.
“Verice,” Warna said. “I know what I want.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Verice’s heart leaped with a sudden, irrational fear that she’d ask to leave. She’d every right to ask to go, but he—
He swallowed, and chose the honorable path, as much as it choked him to do so. “Whatever you want, Warna.”
“Hear me out,” she chided. She breathed deep, and he took a moment to just look at her, lovely in the scattered sunlight. She seemed to glow against the greenery that sheltered them.
“I want to celebrate the Festival of Light and Laughter with you in the Great Hall.” She raised a hand to forestall any protest. “You and I have been dancing around the central issue of the castle and your keep since I’ve arrived. We’ve - your staff and I - we’ve used subterfuge, dissembling, shams and deceit.” She gave him a solemn look. “As conspiracies go, it’s been a fairly quiet one.”
Verice couldn’t help but snort, and at Warna’s questioning look, he raised an eyebrow of his own. “Isn’t that the very nature of conspiracies?” he asked.
That got him a soft smile but it didn’t reach Warna’s eyes. “And you’ve let us. Turned a blind eye to our doings; ignored what was happening around you.”
Verice said nothing, kept his face as still as stone. But Warna wasn’t fooled. She rose, pushed through the dogs, and sat next to him, taking his hand.
He felt the warmth of her skin, took in the soft scent of her hair and the band around his chest tightened.
“That was fine,” she assured him. “It worked, in fact. For both you and those around you. But now, going forward, there should be only truth between us. No more lies, no more coy maneuvering. What I want is for us to be honest with each other.”
“Very well—” Verice began
“I want to open the Great Hall, bring the business of the keep to its full operations as the heart of your power,” Warna said. “We’ll honor the dead, I promise you, and then celebrate the full Festival in all its glory.”
“Then, after-” she faltered slightly. “After the Festival is concluded, after a week or so, we will quietly break our troth. I’ll go to my great-uncle’s and rebuild my life.”
“This is what you want?” Verice asked, staring at her hand in his.
“Well, there’s one more thing,” Warna said, and now he felt her fingers tremble in his. She didn’t continue, and he glanced at her to see her eyes downcast as well.
“Warna?” he asked in the barest of whispers.
She took a trembling breath, leaned closer, and kissed him.
Her heart wasgoing to beat its way out of her chest. Warna took her failing courage into her hands and kissed Verice.
His lips were smooth and dry against hers, and when he didn’t respond she felt all her hope die a long agonizing death. She missed the warmth of his mouth even before she pulled away.
She felt his hand on the back of her neck, and his warmth returned as he kissed her with a power that stole the breath from her body. Warm, wet, inviting, his mouth was all that and more. Somehow, without her even realizing it, she was wrapped in his arms.
