The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [112]
As he spoke, an odd warmth suddenly spread down her limbs.
“You needn’t overdo it,” she said, suddenly not so sure of herself. “No one is listening.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” he said.
“Be careful, Cape Chavel,” Anne said. “I’ve been badly betrayed by someone who claimed to love me. I found out he was merely using me for political gain. I won’t feel like that again, ever. So be honest.”
He stepped closer, and suddenly he seemed to enclose her, blotting out everything else around her.
“I am honest,” he said. “I refused to court you for political reasons, remember? And I won’t pretend to court you now when you so plainly have no interest in me. So let us keep things as they are: You my queen and I one of your knights.”
Anne thought she had a reply, but she lost it somehow. She had believed she’d hit on a clever political ploy, but it was suddenly very much out of control. The earl sounded hurt. Was he really serious?
“May I go, Majesty?” Cape Chavel said stiffly.
“Yes, go,” she said.
She heard his footsteps start off. “Wait,” she said.
The footfalls stopped, and she felt a giddy sort of fear.
“I never said I didn’t care for you,” she said softly.
“Do you?”
She turned slowly. “Since we’ve met, I’ve been very…busy,” she said. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“I know,” he said.
“And as I’ve told you, I’ve been hurt before.” She paused. “Not just once. And there is—was—someone else. I admire you, Cape Chavel. I like you very much.”
“That isn’t love.”
“I’ve no idea what love is,” Anne said. “But you’re judging me too quickly. You’re guessing. You will never know if I can love you unless you court me, and neither will I.”
He held her gaze well past the point Anne found comfortable, which amounted to around three heartbeats.
“Majesty, now I have to ask if you are serious.”
She suddenly wanted to make a joke out of the whole thing, explode the moment as she had done with Cazio and back away.
And what about Cazio? She was sure he had feelings for her. If something happened to Austra—
No, she couldn’t think like that.
And so she nodded in response to his question.
“Then I will court you,” he said softly. “And hope I do not regret it. How should I start?”
“Ideally? Long walks in the gardens, riding, picnics, flowers and poetry. But as we’re in the middle of a war and I’m sending you off to fight this afternoon, I think a kiss might be nice.”
And so there was a kiss, and it was nice, and another, which was very nice, and so they spent the rest of the morning as the boats finished burning.
CHAPTER FOUR
FEND MAKES AN OFFER
ONE OF THE WYVERS folded its wings and dropped, hitting the man riding ahead of Aspar in the middle of the back with its wicked spurs. The fellow went flying over his mount’s neck, and the horse reared in terror. So did Aspar’s mount, and he cursed the loss of Ogre one more time. Ogre would rear only to attack.
Trying to control the beast with one hand, he jabbed his spear at the wyver with the other. To his satisfaction, he poked a hole right through its wing.
It screeched, hopped out of reach, and leaped skyward. The wounded wing still caught plenty of air, and in heartbeats it was up with its four brethren.
The attack had come as a surprise, because for bells the things had just been circling, following them. Fend’s eyes in the heavens.
When they reached Ermensdoon, the flying creatures broke off their attack and went even higher in their coiling paths.
“We don’t have long,” Aspar said. “They’ll be coming.”
“We almost beat them,” Emfrith muttered. His face was still tear-streaked. “If we could just find some way to kill the basil-nix. I hear Duke Artwair killed one down in Broogh, with fire.”
“Maunt they may have another fox behind their ears,” Aspar pointed out.
Emfrith nodded. “I won’t argue with you again. We’ll form up here only as long as it takes to evacuate the castle. Then we