Page 52 of Sword & Shadow
Inches separated them. He relished their closeness and the chance to examine her beautiful countenance in such detail. Her delicately tanned skin glowed warm in the coldness of Wauld. There was something so soft yet strong about her features. Rounded but striking.
As he dipped his head, Evylin’s lips parted in a sharp inhale, as though anticipating his kiss.
The tip of his nose brushed her cheek just as she whispered, “That will cost you extra.”
Deckard paused. He’d heard the jest in her tone, but he couldn’t help wondering if she meant it on some level. He pulled back, brow raised. “Forget it, then,” he said.
Her face scrunched in confusion and, he thought, disappointment. “What?”
“I’m afraid you’ve bled me dry. I have nothing left to give.” He stepped back, turning toward camp.
Evylin caught his wrist and tugged, pulling him around to face her. She grabbed the collar of his coat. Then her lips were on his. His thoughts fell away as he instinctively took her in his arms.
Heat trickled along Deckard’s spine. How he’d missed kissing her! The last few weeks had felt like ages, his desire for her neverwaning as he patiently waited for her to recover. The experience didn’t disappoint his memory. The warmth grew, spreading into his chest. It always felt like this when he kissed her, like she was slowly filling him with sunlight until he radiated with a fever that tingled under his skin.
Breaking apart, Deckard and Evylin stared at one another. His arm was still draped around her waist as her fingers clung to his collar. It felt as though neither of them was quite done, yet neither was prepared to go any further.
“There,” she said, her breath warm between their lips. “I’ve satisfied your integrity.”
The kiss still misted over Deckard’s mind like the fog that obscured Wauld. “Hm?”
Evylin smiled, the dimples appearing on her cheeks. “We told them we wanted time alone with one another. Now, you can hold your head high, knowing that you didn’t lie.”
The laugh that trickled out of him hardly registered under the patter of rain around them. “I’m indebted to you,” he whispered. “Yet again.”
Evylin gave him a pleased smirk. “Afterthat, we can call it even.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
4TH OF CHRONOS, 1574
Deckard woke with a nagging feeling at the back of his brain, as though he’d forgotten or overlooked something important. It lingered through his early morning watch with Evylin and Rafferty. It persisted as he ate a meager and hasty breakfast of porridge. And it followed him as he and Auden rode into the city of Carrickbrack to restock.
According to the Calders, they were making good time across the western half of the continent. It scarcely felt possible in the dreary mist-covered landscape filled with perpetual moss and pine-riddled forest. Deckard was growing tired of riding, eating, and sleeping in the rain. And while the siblings promised that it was only the impending springtime that made it rain so profusely, the continual drizzle made every day feel the same.
Even the three settlements they’d entered in the span of nearly two hundred miles all looked the same. So much so that Deckard found himself quietly absorbed in that nagging sensation as Auden handled the shopping.WhatamI forgetting?he wondered.
Had there been an extra supply he’d needed to add to the list? Perhaps a piece of Auden and Ilain’s tutelage on Waulden culture had slipped his mind. He felt sure that he’d rememberedthe date of Evylin’s birthday correctly, and he took her giving no sign of being upset with him as a confirmation. Should their kiss last night be of any indication, she felt quite the opposite of vexation toward him.
No, it was something else. Something critical.
Deckard helped Auden load up the packs and saddlebags with the replenishment of hardtack, barley, and other rations. He’d remembered to purchase another supply of bread—a luxury but a cheap one—so that couldn’t be what was troubling him. Had one of their comrades said something to him on the road? He didn’t want to forget anything in the town. They couldn’t afford to waste time on another stop so soon.
Stepping out onto the street, Deckard ran back through the previous day. It bled into the others so much that it was no wonder he’d forgotten something. He couldn’t even remember whether they’d had goose or rabbit last night.
Rabbit,he recalled. Auden had been cleaning off the final spit they’d skewered the coneys on when Deckard and Evylin announced they were going for their walk.
Deckard smiled to himself at the thought of the previous night. The ivy around his heart grew at the memory, knowing that she’d come to trust him at last—that she loved him, even if she wasn’t ready to say it yet. He was quite thankful to Estshire for the unexpected blessing it had given him in Evylin. He was even more grateful to Hewitt. After all, he was the reason Deckard had even had the chance to marry her.
A cold tingle pricked the back of Deckard’s neck.
Hewitt.
Thatwas what was bothering him. His conversation with his subconsciously induced vision of Hewitt niggled at his mind. Something hadn’t been quite right. But what?
Deckard couldn’t deny that he’d been embarrassed by how he’d allowed his thoughts to devolve into contemplating thefrustration he felt toward his and Evylin’s physical relationship. That wasn’t a conversation he cared to entertain with anyone, even a figment. But then, he couldn’t exactly consider it unexpected. He might pride himself on his honor and gentility, but that didn’t negate the fact that he was a man. His attraction to Evylin had never been in question, and even a gentleman had desires that weren’t to be spoken of in polite society.
No, while the topic had been awkward, that particular portion of his contemplations with Hewitt wasn’t what plagued his brain. It was something more important. Something specific. Something that made him feel as though he stood in the middle of the forest, attempting to find one very particular tree....
