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“Do you trust me?”
Her eyes darted toward the bed and then back to him. If Alden had blinked, he would have missed it, so subtle was the movement. But he had not. Without thinking, he took a step toward her.
“Elara,” he asked again. “Do you trust me?”
Her chin rose. “I hardly know you.”
“What would you know of me?” he asked. They stood much too close, and not close enough.
“I would know your true purpose at Blackwood.”
“As I said—”
“You told me only a partial truth. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Can you?”
“Aye.”
“Tell me how.” Elara intrigued him like no other. Though it was true he avoided her question, he also wished to learn such a skill.
“Some blink more, others less. Some look up and to the right, others to the left. It can be difficult to determine when a person is being untruthful, or omitting information, but knowing their regular patterns can be helpful. For instance, your gaze is constant, more so than most. When you wish to avoid a topic, it becomes more . . . erratic. Though subtly so.”
“Incredible.”
“No more so than your skill and strength with the sword. With practice, it becomes much easier.”
Alden smiled. “You’ve been watching me in training then, too?”
“Perhaps.”
“In order to determine my worthiness as an ally in the matter of the traitor?”
Alden wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to kiss any woman, including the very first time his lips had touched another. He wanted to break through the cool exterior and discover the depths of this woman’s soul. His chest, his entire body, ached with the need to touch her.
Yet, he remained still.
“Then too, aye.”
His eyes widened. Had she just admitted to watching him before it was necessary to do so? Alden had to take a risk. There was no other way to gain complete trust from a woman such as Elara.
“I wish to become a knight.”
She did not laugh, or scoff at his admission. “That is why you joined us?”
“In part, aye. I do believe in the cause, but I also know there are limited opportunities for a blacksmith’s son to gain the status that I’ve wished for since I was a boy. That is more than I’ve said aloud to another living soul about the matter,” he said honestly.
“’Tis a noble calling. Why would you be ashamed of such an ambition?’
Alden wished to gain her trust, but he would not humiliate himself in the process. Grinding his teeth, he said nothing, considering how not to answer without appearing rude.
She stepped forward, closing the space between them. Grabbing his hand with both of her own, she turned it over. Looked at his palm.
The touch was so unexpected, warm and comforting.
“These are the hands,” she said, “of a man who has trained to be a warrior, but also the hands of a blacksmith. There is no shame in that.”
He watched as Elara’s thumbs smoothed over the rough patches beneath his fingers. They looked up at the same time, and she immediately dropped his hand and stepped back.
