Page 100 of Lady Knight and the Thief

What would Torren’s voice sound like if he said that to her while still hoarse and thick with sleep? What would it feel like to wake with their legs tangled together?

“Took you long enough,” she said.

How long had he been watching her sleep?

The grin on Torren’s face only spread, stretched wider. “Did you have a nice cat nap?”

Cypress scrunched her face up and hissed like a cat.

Surprised laughter pealed out of Torren. His expression made Cypress chuckle and be glad she hadn’t suppressed the urge, as absurd as it had been.

Cypress stretched and pushed herself upright.

As she pulled on her boots, Cypress admitted the nap had been pleasant—somehow more restful on a stone bench than the night she’d spent tossing and turning in a luxurious bed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Torren laughed and sat next to her.

Cypress shook her head. “No, the nap was nice.”

“Why’d you hiss at me then?” Torren asked with his head cocked to the side.

Cypress shrugged and kept her gaze steady on her hands as she pulled the laces tight on her boots. “I just felt like it.”

“Oh, did I make the kitty angry?” Torren crooned and leaned into her space, his breath in her ear.

A shiver ran down Cypress’s spine.

“Kitty is perfectly fine, thank you,” Cypress said, then stood. “Are you done now?” She asked, arms crossed over her middle.

Torren looked at her through half-lidded eyes, and it was all she could do to keep her feet in their place, to not place her knees on either side of his hips and kiss him until her lips bled.

“Not nearly, but yes, let’s go,” Torren said, then stood and walked out of the gardens without looking back to see if she followed.

Cypress trailed after him, her hands clenched into fists at her side.

She had made a colossal fucking mess out of this. What was she thinking, kissing him like that?

At least there would be miles and miles of hard travel between them, making conversation a chore.

By the time Cypress and Torren left A’aravos Paravale, the afternoon had been nearly upon them. With the sun on their backs and only hoofbeats for company, they galloped through the Wylds until nightfall.

Hardly a single word was said until Cypress and Torren once again found themselves camped within a Faerie ring large enough for them and the horses. The pair fell into a familiar routine, built from the previous weeks on the road together. After cooling down the horses, Torren started a fire while Cypress unpacked a few provisions.

When Cypress laid the food she’d collected on a worn-down stump, she locked eyes with Torren for the first time since they’d left the palace.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then the birds stopped chirping, and the wind died. Even the trees' whispering was silent.

Cypress could have sworn she heard them say “Do not harm it,” though, before everything went quiet.

With her heart in her ears, Cypress whispered, “We aren’t alone anymore, are we?”

“No, Lass. We aren’t,” Torren confirmed, voice pitched low.

“Did the Dryaads say not to hurt it?” Cypress asked. “…Whateveritis?” Her eyes darted around the circle, but she needed confirmation he’d heard the words, too.

“Aye,” Torren said. He stood, head on a swivel.

The horses did not seem alarmed; the pair were still munching on their grain contentedly. Their tails swished back and forth to flick at flies.