Page 21 of The King’s Commander

“Oh, you do not misread my thoughts, Aedre. I’ve thought of it, aye. I’ve wondered if you might smile if I kissed you. I fell asleep last eve imagining myself making love to you.”

If I said as much to any woman at court, my cheek would have already been properly slapped. Then again, not one of them would accuse me on our second meeting of wanting to stick my cock in them.

“Which brings us to your affliction.” We both know I have none, but she says it with confidence. “Do you find yourself entertaining such thoughts every time you meet a woman you desire?”

“Nay, I do not.”

“Tell me, Lord—”

“Vanni.”

“Tell me, Vanni, why you’ve secured my services.”

Leaning back against my hands, I consider her question.

“You are preparing to lie to me,” she accuses.

Something about Aedre’s very casual position, legs crossed under her skirts, so at odds with the daggers she shoots from her eyes, makes me smile.

“’Tis not amusing.”

“I’m not laughing at your words.”

There’s no denying her guess was somewhat accurate. I do not mean to lie to her, precisely, but the version of the truth I provide will be a tailored one, intended to help me gain information.

“Then you are laughing at me?”

“Are you always so combative?” I gesture out to sea, to the blue sky beyond. “’Tis a glorious day. Is this such a bad way to earn coin?”

No answer.

“Why do you dislike me so?”

That she answers easily.

“I do not know your purpose, and like most Southerners, you have antiquated notions of women. And . . .” She pauses.

“And? ’Tis not enough?”

Apparently not. I can feel myself smirking.

“I dislike nobles. Most especially your kind.”

“If I came from the court of Edingham, would that make a difference?”

She pulls her skirts in tighter against her crossed legs. “Nay.”

Small relief.

“You resent that I’m a king’s man,” I guess.

She nods. “Surely you know my ancestors have not been treated kindly by either court.”

“Many years ago, perhaps. But there is no longer much public antipathy toward the Garra. Well,” I qualify, “except by some in the church.”

She looks at me as if I were a boy of five.

“That does not equate to kind treatment. Are Garra openly welcomed in d’Almerita? Are they given the opportunity to practice? Or are they relegated to the outskirts of town, allowed to exist only if they follow Merian customs, and only then if ’tis deemed appropriate?”