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“You are not what I expected.” The words leave my lips before I can think better of it.
“Our ways are different, Lady Aedre, but we can teach each other.”
That very statement proves my point. It is exactly the last thing I’d have presumed to hear from a man raised at court to serve a king.
“I’ve met few nobles, and even fewer of your ilk,” I admit.
Thankfully, Vanni does not seem inclined to leave just yet.
“We are not all bad, Aedre.” He says it softly, without censure.
My chest constricts when he takes a step toward me, tall enough that I’m forced to look up. His eyes seem to be pleading for something.
For me to believe his words, that he is not the man I thought him to be?
His lips part, and I realize his plea is of a different kind.
Although I’ve thought of this moment many times over the last few days, of what it might feel like to kiss him, I know it would be a fleeting pleasure. As he has said, he will be leaving, with or without Kipp. And yet, I want to do it anyway. I gulp the air, thick still with the remnants of the storm.
“I would kiss you, Aedre.”
I want that too. But I can’t find the words. Fine Garra I’ve proven to be. My vocation is to help others with love, only the desire I feel for this man has filled me with longing and fear.
Longing for a man who would do as right by me as he would the king he serves.
Fear at the knowledge that I would enjoy the kiss. That I would want more.
Where would such a foolhardy act leave me? With an eternal ache in my heart for what could have been had the king’s commander been any other man?
“You will leave any day,” I accuse.
“Aye.”
“How many women have you kissed in moments such as this?”
I imagine a trail of women, from Murwood down to the capital, wishing for just one more glance, one more touch, from Lord Vanni d’Abella.
“Not as many as you believe it to be.”
My questions seem to be enough of an answer for him. Vanni steps back, and the heat between us dissipates into a cold chill.
His chin rises. “Apologies, my lady.”
But he doesn’t move to leave—he’s waiting for me to walk away.
Should I tell him that my hesitation is because I fear a fleeting moment of pleasure will curse me with visions of him after he leaves? Even now, without such intimacies, I fear his face will be one I see for some time.
What could he say to that?
Nothing that would ease the sting of losing him.
And so, for the second time, I walk away. This time with a heavier heart than before. This afternoon was truly pleasurable.
“Good eve,” I mutter, grasping my skirts even more tightly as I hurry toward home. I don’t look back until I reach the gate which fences in our manor, the only home I remember. Once, we lived at the back of the forge. But as the years went on, my father and grandmother earned enough coin to build a small manor that better accommodates us all, and we moved here.
Turning, I strain to see him, but the fickle moon doesn’t cast enough light. Though I don’t see him, I do not need to. I’m as certain Vanni still waits there as I am my father and Amma will have many questions.
Well, I have questions for them as well. Though my father and grandmother disagree about my future, they’ve always held a united front in telling me powerful people have questionable motives.
Either Vanni is the rare exception or their warnings have been overzealous, making me wonder if any of my other long-held beliefs are mistaken.
