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“Not at your age,” I pointed out. That was a retirement position from what I’d heard, and mostly ceremonial. This wasn’t the Dark Ages. No one was conducting raids on the neighbor’s estates anymore.
“My family does things a little differently.” There was defensiveness there, but confusion as well, despite her best efforts to hide it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Levana’s father had never told her they did that particular thing differently.
“What are you making? It smells really good.”
I let her change the subject, hating the tension filling the small space between us. It was huge that Levana had come here at all. I didn’t want to put her off returning.
“Just onurac soup,” I replied absently, arranging the herbs on a tray to toast over the fire before I added them to the broth.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had that one before.”
“You probably did as a child. It’s not exactly a trendy dish to feed to adults, but you’ve had a hard few days and sometimes comfort food is the best balm for the soul.”
“That sounds lovely,” Levana sighed, relaxing a little more as she watched me work. “I really don’t think I’ve had it before though. It’s so hot in Erith, we don’t eat much soup.”
“Are all of your family in Erith?”
Shades traveled from one side of the realm and back in a day all the time, such was the beauty of shadow walking.
“All of the family I know, yes. They’re all at the estate. What about you? Where did you grow up?”
“Kelna, by the river. I grew up above a pub that my parents ran. I spent my entire childhood in that kitchen.”
“Oh. So cooking was something your parents encouraged you to do?”
She was trying to draw parallels, and as much as I wished I could reassure her with them, I wouldn’t lie to her. “Not particularly. If anything, they were always chasing me away, trying to convince me to spend more time outside. Kitchen hours are pretty terrible. My parents didn’t want that for me.”
The pot was boiling and I threw in all the ingredients except the meat, stirring it until everything was fully submerged.
“And you like your life here?” she asked. I glanced up at her as I set up the meat on the cutting board to slice, and Levana grimaced. “I sound like I’m interrogating you.”
“You are interrogating me.”
“I know, but I don’t want tosoundlike I am.”
“It’s nice to know you aren’t good at everything,” I told her cheerfully. “And yes, I do like my life here. I’ll stay until I inevitably piss off someone important enough to fire me. Doyoulike it here?”
“Of course.”
Thatsounded genuine. But I couldn’t make Levana realize she’d be better off here. I could only do my best to remind her why.
Once the soup was done, I threw in the raw meat to cook for a few moments in the broth, serving up a bowl for each of us and taking them to the dining table. Levana grabbed my goblet, trailing behind me in a way that felt far more intimate than anything else we’d done together.
My shadows were rioting, desperate to reach for her. Fucking mortifying, it was like being an untried lad all over again.
Once Levana started talking about her work with the Guard, the conversation was easy. She had plenty of funny anecdotes from her training days—some of which she must have told a few times because her comedic timing was perfect—and she clearly enjoyed the challenges her job presented her.
I was more than happy to listen to this bright, cheerful Levana as we ate and cleaned up. She didn’t object when I poured us both another goblet of wine, leading her over to the couch.
It felt like a seductive move, though I hadn’t intended it to be. Or maybe I had and I was just lying to myself.
It was just really fucking hard to look at her and not remember how good she felt—how goodwe’dfelt—when she was being all smiley and relaxed and massaging my knot. I wanted that Levana too, not just the sniping, scratching one who was lashing out because being attracted to me was a complication in her neatly planned out life.
I wasn’t complaining, necessarily. I’d take both.
Except, the more I tried to ignore the tension between us, the more tempting Levana’s scent got.
It was just a physical reaction. It didn’tmeananything. Perhaps she was just horny andhappenedto be in my presence, but it wasn’t really anything to do with me. Or perhaps it was everything to do with me, and she was remembering how good I’d made her feel that night we’d spent together.
