Page 78 of Lady Knight and the Thief

Torren handed her a key while they walked up the stairs to their rooms–separateones.

“What number am I?”

“Eleven, lucky number eleven, Lass.”

“Hey, that’s Duchess to you,” Cypress said, and threw a smirk over her shoulder at Torren.

A look like a ravaging storm passed over his face, and then he drawled, “Oh, you don’t like it when I call you Lass anymore?” Then he stepped close to her in the darkened hallway.

Cypress shivered. “Depends, are you asking as Prince–KingTorren, orjustTorren?” She asked. She had to tilt her head back in order to keep her eyes on his grey ones.

Torren grinned. “Whatever you like, Duchess.”

Their bodies were pressed tight together, her spine against the door to her rooms.

Somehow, she found the doorknob behind her back. With a tight grip on it, prepared to turn it at any moment, Cypress said, “Torren?”

“Hmm?” He said, the wood beneath his hands at her shoulders creaking.

Cypress pulled him in closer with a grip on his shirt.

“I’d like to go to sleep now.” She whispered in his ear, and when his body shivered in response, she added, “Alone.”

Then, she slipped behind the door while Torren was left reeling in the hallway.

“Cruel, Lass! You’re a cruel one.” Torren said, voice muffled behind the wooden door.

Cypress laughed in return, all the way to the bathing chambers where she intended to wallow until the water went cold.

27

Heresy

Today,theforestseemedto be still, quiet in a way that set Cypress’s nerves on edge.

According to Torren, they were about a day’s ride south of A'aravos Paravale if they traveled non-stop.

The two of them made decent time as they moved through the Wylds. The distance to the castle slowly disappeared beneath the beating of horse hooves. But the slowest part came when Cypress and Torren would periodically dismount and walk the horses to give them a bit of rest.

Cypress didn’t mind the pace, the strain of the journey. It gave her less time to dwell on her heritage and the rest of it.

The worst part was not stopping for a meal. Cypress and Torren ate as they walked, chewing dried jerky and flatbread, but pushed on.

And, throughout the day, the forest was still. It was like the trees were waiting for something. Cypress couldfeelit.

But was she just imagining things? Was her mind running away with the nonsense that Havanj had told her the night before?

It wasn’t until well after noon that Cypress asked Torren. The question had been burning in the back of her mind since they departed Jinmelle at dawn’s light.

“Is there something following us once more?”

Torren shook his head. “Whatever it is, it’s nothing from Faerie.”

“Not exactly reassuring,” Cypress snapped, spurring her horse onward.

“Wasn’t meant to be,” Torren muttered, eyes flicking to the trees.

“Could we lose them in the trees?” Cypress pressed, scanning the tree line.