Page 84 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

We tie up the horses and follow him inside. The common room is warm and bustling with locals and travelers, there’s a fire crackling in a massive stone hearth. The smell of roasting meat and fresh bread makes my stomach growl.

Grier returns with two keys. “Two rooms. Best they had, only one has a private washroom, though.” He goes to hand the key to me, but Gemma intercepts it with that deadly speed. There’s an adorable challenge playing across her face.

Finn laughs and gestures at me. “Rye’s literally royalty, Gemma. Give him the key.”

“Not here I’m not.” I hold her gaze. “Out here, we’re just five travelers on the road. And the ladies should absolutely have the better room.”

The words I can’t say press against the inside of my chest. Let me in.

Gemma holds my gaze, then something in her expression shifts, like she heard what I didn’t say. She slips the key into her pocket.

“Chivalry suits you, Ryewood.”

My chest pulls tight at the way she says my name. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could be someone she could want without complication.

“I have my moments.” I try to play it light, but I’m not fooling anyone, least of all myself.

I place my hand on the small of her back as we move to an open table in the corner by the band. She softens into my touch and lets me guide her through the crowded room like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The table is tucked against the wall, close enough to the band that we can feel the thrum of the music. A fiddler, a drummer, and someone with a worn lute are playing something lively. The room hums with energy, travelers and locals mixing over ale and laughter. It feels worlds away from the castle.

“First round’s on me.” I let my hand linger on Gemma’s shoulder as she sits.

“The non-royalty is buying?” Finn grins. “How generous.”

“I’m a man of the people tonight.”

Gemma laughs and looks at me with an openness that makes my heart squeeze.

I return with five steins, setting them down around the table. “Stew and bread are on the way. Waitress says it’s the best in three villages.”

“That’s what they all say,” Finn says.

We settle into easy conversation, or Finn does, since he’s carrying it for all of us. He tells stories and cracks jokes, keeping the energy light while steering the talk toward things that make Grier respond. Training memories, ridiculous mishaps, and the time a goat got loose in the barracks.

Grier fights it at first. But Finn is relentless in that easy way of his, and eventually, Grier’s adding details, correcting Finn’s wild exaggerations, and almost smiling.

Gemma is warm beside me, laughing at Finn’s antics. I let my hand drop to her thigh under the table, needing to touch her.

She glances at me. I half expect her to push me away. Instead, she covers my hand with hers and turns back to the conversation. I lace her fingers through mine. She gives me a little squeeze, and I forget to breathe for a moment.

The waitress appears with a tray balanced on her hip, five steaming bowls of stew, a basket of crusty bread, and a glass of whiskey, which she sets in front of Grier.

“From the ladies by the fire,” she says with a knowing smile, nodding toward a table of women who are clearly watching our group. “They said you should come say hello after you eat.”

She sets the bowls in front of us and places the bread in the middle of the table.

Grier blinks, clearly caught off guard.

Finn lets out a low whistle. “Grier, you sly bastard.”

Grier shakes his head, but there’s the faintest hint of color on his cheeks. Then his eyes find Gemma, like he’s checking for her reaction, and under the table, her hand tenses in mine.

I squeeze gently, wishing I could take whatever that just did to her and carry it myself. But she slips her hand free and reaches for her spoon.

I desperately want to pull her back. But I let her go, because wanting and taking are different things.

I just stay close and hope that’s enough.