"That was a statement, not a question. Perhaps, again, I'm wrong. Yet I cannot help but wonder what would happen if he were to appear here now and explain everything to your satisfaction. If he could convince you he'd not betrayed his empire. That he'd not betrayed you."
"Any betrayal of me is trivial and unimportant--"
"No, it isn't." He met her gaze. "Not to you."
"If you are implying that Gavril and I--"
"--were lovers? No, I am quite certain there was not so much as an affectionate exchange between you, let alone a kiss. If Gavril knew all along what he had to do for his father, then he'd not have allowed that. But he wanted to. He'd fallen for you and--"
"No."
"Yes. I know him, and as much as you don't want to believe that I know him well, I do, and I could tell his feelings for you--"
"No." She struggled against a stronger objection. She wanted to snarl the word, to yank from his grip and stride away into the night, slough off this conversation and cleanse her mind of it. But all she could safely say was a harshly whispered, "It was not like that. Not at all."
"Perhaps. I hope it's not. But if I believe he had feelings for you, which could be returned should the circumstances change, then I cannot let anything happen between us. It would be dishonorable."
"Your sense of honor is misplaced."
A quirked smile. "Perhaps. But it's still mine to misplace." He settled her cloak around her. "If my reaction felt like rejection, then you have very little experience of kissing. Quite clearly, it was reciprocated. I . . ." His gaze lifted to hers. "What I feel for you . . . It's not anything . . ." He swallowed. "If you were mine and then he came back with an explanation, and you realized that you loved him--"
"I do not."
"I believe you cannot know that until the option is there. Or until it is clear there is no option forthcoming."
"What if I said it didn't matter? That I want to be with you, and even if he came back, explained everything, and declared himself, I would still want to be with you."
That twist of a smile again, this time with a flash of longing and pain in his eyes. "Perhaps I am a coward for not taking a chance, but I don't want my heart broken. If you do believe me a coward, and if that changes your opinion of me, then I regret that more than anything."
"I think you're wrong." She leaned forward and kissed him, a quick press of the lips. "But I respect you for it. And when
you realize you are wrong, if you still feel that way about me . . ."
"I will. I'm certain of that. Until then . . ." He kissed her nose. "Are we still friends?"
"We are." She turned her attention to the warlord's compound, lit on the hilltop. "If I return to complaining about that, will you return to listening to me complain?"
He smiled. "I will."
Soon after, the warlord's men silently appeared from the rear, escorted by the warrior who'd been sent to retrieve them. The warlord--from the Jorojumo clan, with fierce spiders inked on his arms--was a man long into his fifth decade, though age would not keep him off the battlefield. Warlords were hard men, often not achieving their position until near the end of their careers. Even then they'd never rest on the sidelines in a battle. If they did, their men would abandon them.
If Jorojumo had any qualms about working with a prince who'd barely reached manhood, he gave no sign of it. In truth, after decades of peace, there were warriors twice Tyrus's age whose experience was confined to sparring and mock battles. Together, Tyrus and Jorojumo quickly determined a course of action--split the troops, encircle the camp, and ambush the bandits while they slept. It would not be a battle filled with honor, but under the circumstances, they could not worry about that.
And those circumstances, as conveyed to the warlord? Simply that the bandits had, with a larger troop, invaded both Edgewood and Fairview, decimating the towns for reasons not yet known.
Next Tyrus assigned positions to the warriors. When he did not include Moria, she presumed it was because her position was clear. At his side. She said as much as they walked away from the others afterward.
"No," he said. "You'll be here."
She stopped walking. "Where?"
"Here."
He pointed to the hillock where they'd spent most of the night. He didn't look at her. Nor did he stop walking, and she had to run to catch up.
"You're keeping me out of battle?" she said.
"Yes."