"Ye ask many questions,” he said.
“Aye,” she answered, a small smile touching her lips. “Because I care.”
Connor looked down at his plate, then back up. “The stores are counted monthly,” he said at last. “The steward can show ye the records once the weddin’ is done.”
It was a small concession, but Eva felt a spark of triumph. “Thank ye,” she said sincerely.
They returned to eating, the tension easing just a fraction. Eva asked about the kitchens, the weaving rooms, and the healing stores. Connor answered each, still reserved, but no longer dismissive.
Though his mood remained dark and guarded, he didn’t shut her out entirely. Eva found comfort in the simple act of sharing a table with him, for now. The candle burned low as they spoke, and the food dwindled.
Though his mood remains dark and guarded, he doesnae shut me out entirely. Does he think of me as I do of him?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Achessboard sat between them, its worn squares lit by the low glow of the candle. Connor rested his forearms on the table, watching as Eva eyed the carved pieces with open suspicion. She reached for a pawn, hesitated, then pulled her hand back as though it might leap at her. The quiet between them felt charged, gentler than their earlier sharp words.
“I should confess somethin’,” Eva said, glancing up at him.
Connor lifted a brow. “Go on, then.”
“I’ve nay idea how to play this game,” she admitted, a crooked smile tugging at her lips.
“But ’twas yer idea, lass,” Connor said, and a rough laugh escaped him.
She only shrugged, wholly unbothered.
“That shrug alone should be banned,” he said, amusement warming his voice.
“Will ye teach me,” Eva asked, “or will ye mock me all night?”
Connor’s smile lingered longer than he expected. “Aye, I’ll teach ye.”
He reached forward and straightened the pieces with practiced care, aligning them. Eva leaned closer, her curiosity bright and unguarded. Connor felt the brush of her sleeve against his arm and forced his attention back to the game.
“These are the pawns,” he said, tapping the front row. “They move one step straight ahead.”
“They seem simple enough,” Eva said.
“They are,” Connor replied, “until they arenae.”
He lifted a rook and set it down again.
“This one moves straight as well,” he said. “As far as it likes, but only in lines.”
“Like a soldier followin’ orders,” Eva said thoughtfully.
“Aye,” Connor said, watching her rather than the board.
He picked up the knight next, turning it so she could see its carved head.
“This one’s trickier,” he said. “It moves in an L-shape.”
Eva frowned. “That makes nae sense at all.”
Connor chuckled. “Most clever things daenae at first.”
She tried to move the knight, misjudged the pattern, and laughed at herself.
