Page 103 of A Dark and Drowning Tide

Twenty-Five

SHE FOUND SYLVIA HALFWAYthrough making camp.

The pieces of their tent were scattered haphazardly across the cavern’s floor, as were half of her belongings. Sylvia herself sat perched in a pile of her sleeping furs, fastening her damp hair to the top of her head with a garnet-studded pin. A few stubborn curls bounced in front of her eyes, charmingly disheveled.

“What are you doing?”

Sylvia looked up at her, gasping softly in surprise. She released the hold she had on her hair, and the whole wild mess of it spilled around her shoulders. The pin clanged noisily to the floor, echoing against the stone walls.

“Nothing.” There was a touch of self-consciousness in her voice. It was so unlike her, it almost made Lorelei smile. “What are you looking at me that way for?”

“Do I need a reason to look at you?” Then, Lorelei paused, mastering herself. If she could be even-tempered for only once in her life, she needed it to be now. As much as it frightened her, she could not hide behind her snappishness. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Sylvia looked quite suspicious now. “Oh?”

“I have been thinking,” Lorelei ground out. “Quite a bit.”

“Yes. You tend to do that.”

Lorelei—in a very noble demonstration ofself-restraint—refrainedfrom comment. In matters of love, actions came easy to her. She was not very much in the habit of expressing her affections in prettywords—orat all, if she could helpit—andit would require her utmost focus to apply herself to the task.

“Yesterday, you told me I never act in my own self-interest. I suppose you are right, in a way. I often invent misfortune and thwart my own happiness so that I can be disappointed, just as I hold others at a distance so they may never truly know me. I moved through the world with my heart closed to it.” She dared to meet Sylvia’s eyes. “I lied when I told you I could envision nothing between us.”

In the distance, there was the sound of rushing water. She did not think Sylvia was breathing anymore.

“Despite everything that has happened, you have made me believe there is beauty to be found. Your infectious joy, your whimsy, your complete and utter lack of self-preservation...Youare everything I am not and everything I admire. The thought that I might have you terrifiedme—thethought I might ruin you even more,” she confessed. “There is absolutely nothing I can offer you, save my devotion. But if you will have me, I . . .”

This was complete and utter foolishness. Here they were, stranded, both of them wounded and disgraced. They were dead women walking. But if not now, when could she possibly tell her?

“I am yours,” she concluded.

Sylvia smiled with such unguarded happiness, Lorelei’s heart gave an answering leap. “That is more than enough. It is all I could ever want. If you will allow me to, I will find a way to ensure yoursafety—andeveryone else’s in the Yevanverte. I would stake my life on it.”

Lorelei could not believe she’d wasted five years alienating someone who cared for her. Five years trying to ingratiate herself to a man who would discard her the moment it was politically convenient. Five years cutting away enough of herself to make her palatable to the nobles. She’d never please them. But Sylvia had peered into her very soul and did not shy away.

Lorelei laughed, if only to keep herself from weeping. “Would you truly?”

“I would.”

“If they came in the night, you would lend me your sword.”

“Of course I would.”

“If they tried to drive us away, youwould—”

“Lorelei, please,” she whispered, and the yearning in Sylvia’s voice nearly undid her. “You must know that I would do anything you ask of me.”

Lorelei dropped to her knees beside her. “How is it possible that you exist? You are something out of a fairy tale.”

“So are you. But I am as real as you are.” Sylvia’s voice dropped lower, and with a honeyed tone, she added, “So will you please get on with it and kiss me?”

Desire snagged like a hook within her. It took a moment to remember how to speak. “As you wish.”

Lorelei took one finger of her glove between her teeth and carefully tugged it off, then the other. Sylvia watched her remove them with rapt fascination. Carefully, she unwound her bandages and set them aside. Her wounds had closed, but the scars were still tender, each of them in the jagged shape of a starburst. Sylvia gasped softly at the sight of them. With unbearable tenderness, she grasped one of Lorelei’s wrists and pressed a kiss to her palm. Warmth, edged with the barest frisson of pain, suffused her.

“Lorelei—”

“Don’t fret.” She dragged the pad of her thumb over Sylvia’s lower lip. The heat of her mouth was almost too much to bear. She could feel Sylvia’s pulse quickening against her touch. As carefully as she could, she threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and bent down enough to brush their lips together. Sylvia grabbed the fabric of Lorelei’s shirt with such ferocity it pulled her off-balance.