The Blood Knight - J. Gregory Keyes [201]
“There is a possibility,” he said. “A chance we might survive this and live out our lives in better circumstances. But if we can’t—” He placed his ruined hand on her shoulder. “To make this music, this music of death, I have to surrender to the darkest parts of me. I can’t afford to feel joy, hope, or love, or I can’t write it.
“Yet today I realized I would prefer to die still capable of love than have my revenge. I would rather be able to tell Mery that I love her than slay all the evil princes in the world. And I would rather touch you as tenderly as I’m able, with these things that used to be hands, than bring such dread music into the world. Does that mean anything to you? Does it make sense?”
They were both crying now, quietly.
“It makes sense,” she said. “It makes more sense than anything I’ve heard or thought lately. It makes you the man I fell in love with.”
She took his hand and kissed it gently, once, twice, thrice.
“We’re both injured,” she said. “And I’m afraid. Very afraid. You say we might escape…”
“Yes,” he began, but she put a finger to his lips.
“No,” she said. “If it happens, it happens. I don’t want to know any more. If I’m tortured, I will confess. I know that about myself now. I’m no brave lady from a romance.”
“And I’m no knight,” Leoff said. “But there are many ways to be brave.”
She nodded, coming closer. “However much time we have,” she said, “I would like to help you heal. And I’d like you to help me.”
Leoff leaned down and touched his lips to hers, and they stood for a long moment, locked in that very simple kiss.
She reached for the stays on her bodice. He stopped her.
“Healing is done slowly,” he said gently. “A bit at a time.”
“We may not have very much time,” she pointed out.
“What’s been done to you shouldn’t happen to anyone,” he said. “And it may be harder to get over it than you believe. I would like to make love to you, Areana, but only if it were the first of many times, and of many more things that a man and a woman might do together, be together. If we try this now and fail, I fear the consequences. So for the moment, believe we will live and give this time.”
She pressed her head into his shoulder and put her arms around him, and together they watched the sunset.
“You have to go back to your room,” Leoff told her a few bells later. They were quietly lying on his bed, her head nestled on his chest.
“I’d like to stay here,” she said. “Couldn’t we just sleep, actually sleep? I want to wake up with you.”
He shook his head reluctantly. “Tonight is the night,” he said. “Someone will come to your room. I’m not sure what will happen if you aren’t there. Best we stick to the plan.”
“Are you serious? You really think we might escape tonight?”
“I didn’t want to believe it at first, either, but yes, I think the possibility is real.”
“Very well,” she said, untangling from him, standing, and smoothing her gown. Then she bent and gave him a long, lingering kiss. “Until I see you again,” she said.
“Yes,” he managed.
After she was gone, he didn’t sleep but lay awake until he reckoned the midnight bell was about to toll. Then he dressed in a dark doublet and hose and a warm robe. He bundled up his music and, just as the bell began to peal, padded out of his room and down the stairs.
Despite his caution, there were no guards to slip past. The halls were empty, silent, and dark save for the candle he carried.
When he entered the long corridor that led to the entrance hall, he saw a light ahead, as diminutive as his own. As he drew nearer, he made out a dark red gown and quickened his steps, his heart racing double time, like an ensemble that had quite escaped the measure of its leader.
At the doorway he paused, puzzled. Ambria sat in a chair, waiting for him. She wasn’t holding the candle; it flickered in a small sconce on a table near the chair. Her chin was on her chest, and he thought it odd that she had fallen asleep at such an anxious time.
But she wasn’t asleep, of course. Every angle of her body was somehow wrong, and when he came close enough to see her face,