Page 35 of Wings of Ice and Steel

‘I’m not sure you’re ready for that story. It involves a little lord, not unlike D’avant.’

‘Oh gods…’

Ariadnne smiled as Nieve clutched her chest in mock horror.

‘I knew it. As soon as I met you I guessed you weren’t some spoiled princess throwing a tantrum. I bet he deserved it.’

‘He did.’ Ariadnne’s smile dropped.

‘Hey.’ Nieve leaned over and took Ariadnne’s chin. ‘You’re a hundred miles away.’ Her eyes softened. ‘This isn’t goodbye—if that’s why you’re worried. I promise. I’ll see you every day at training. I’ll make sure we get time together. Something tells me you’re worth playing the long game for.’ A tender look softened her face, and she gently touched the side of Ariadnne’s. ‘I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you, and that doesn’t happen to me much. I want to see what this could be. Who knows, if I put my mind to it, maybe I’ll make Second. Josef will be promoted to handle a dragonling at some point and I’ve made Second before. I can do it again. In fact, I’ll set my sights higher. As your handler I could see you freely. So if this works, and we both want it, I’ll earn that right.’ She glanced back to Ariadnne, and a glimmer of her previous unsureness broke through. ‘If you would want that?’

Ariadnne laughed softly, unwilling to admit how wonderful that sounded. ‘We’ll see. You’re quite the dreamer… but I happen to already have a handler.’

Nieve sighed. ‘Yes, the flaw in my plan, but she’s served a full term already. I’m sure retirement will cross her mind eventually.’ She moved the plate away so she could shuffle closer to Ariadnne. ‘If I strive hard enough I’ll be the next logical choice.’ She paused, her fingers teasing the corner of the bedsheet. ‘I know we’ve just met, and all this thinking is foolish, but I don’t think I could walk away if I tried.’

Ariadnne flushed under Nieve’s scrutiny, aware of the way her own breast tugged towards the knight, the pull its own kind of torture. She wanted to admit that Nieve dominated her thoughts, but her mouth had gone dry.

‘If you were wise, you would. Walk away, that is,’ she said softly. ‘Melixanthe and the Council won’t approve. I have no idea what they would do if they found out, and that terrifies me.’

Nieve made a dismissive sound, and Ariadnne frowned.

‘They could hurt you, or worse.’

‘You are the varanya, and I am their prize knight. How disapproving could they be?’

‘Very.’

Ariadnne pictured the stern faces of the seven councillors, and shivered.

‘Then we don’t let them find out,’ Nieve said with a quirk of her brow.

Ariadnne rolled her eyes. ‘How do you propose we do that?’

Mock shock painted Nieve’s face. ‘Are you saying you don’t think I can be discreet?’ She placed a hand on her chest. ‘I am the master of discreet…’

‘Okay… okay.’ The corner of Ariadnne’s mouth twitched. If she could be so sure, maybe there was a chance…

Something in Ariadnne’s resolve melted, and as her face softened, Nieve waggled her brows, making her laugh.

‘You are such a fool, but a beautiful fool.’ Ariadnne leaned to place a kiss on Nieve’s lips. ‘Okay. Yes, we’ll be discreet…’

‘Yes!’ Nieve kissed her again, her face lighting up. ‘In which case this is absolutely not goodbye, and you have no need to look so sad again. I promise we’ll be careful. Though, in all seriousness, we should probably figure out how to get me out of this room.’

Sixteen

Ariadnne

Ariadnne ran her fingers over the tender new skin of her abdomen, puckered from the stitches that she had pulled free. More scars. She sighed and pulled a clean tunic over her head, belting it at her middle.

Her guard, Lucile, had proven easily distractible, more than willing to help Ariadnne with her stitches while Nieve slipped silently past. Ariadnne already missed her, which was dangerous in itself, and wondered what she’d agreed to— whether there could be anything like happiness in her future.

She took a last glance round the room. There was nothing left to pack. A smile lingered on her lips as her gaze slipped to the window. Still open. Nieve was an idiot for attempting the climb, but it seemed like she was Ariadnne’s idiot.

They gathered in the courtyard as the sun rose, several knights lugging the great prize chests for the Guild—a collection of precious jewels and artifacts that had surely been painful to part with. Lord D’avant was notably absent. Despite her lack of sleep, Nieve stood tall beside Josef, glancing over with a small, secret smile as Ariadnne approached.

‘Form up!’ Melixanthe commanded. More than one company-member was yawning after their night of revelry, and Melixanthe’s brow furrowed deeper at the sight of their sloppy formation.

‘What do you call this?’ she bellowed in a voice fierce enough to carry over turbulent winds. With a start, the knights leapt into orderly rows.