The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(103)

From her tone, Reuben didn't think the 'something' would involve much praise. What was the matter?

“Certainly, Milady.”

The guards helped the woman up, and then, since she was hardly able to stay on her feet by herself, helped her out of the room. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Ayla jumped up and rounded on Reuben.

“What on earth possessed you to say those things to that poor woman?” she hissed. “Have you gone utterly insane?”

Startled by her ferocity, Reuben took a step backwards.

“I just told her the truth. You don't like me lying, do you? If I remember correctly, you were very angry the last time I wasn't completely honest with you. And now you're angry at me for telling this woman the truth?”

“Well, not exactly, no…” Ayla's anger was being cooled by confusion. But then, it suddenly flared up again. “You could have been more tactful!” she snapped.

“Tactful?” Frowning, Reuben tried to fathom her meaning. “I told her that her treacherous swine of a husband was going to be executed. Wasn't that tactful enough?”

Ayla covered her face with her hands and mumbled something. Reuben thought it sounded like “God give me strength,” but he wasn't entirely sure.

Slowly, she let her hands drop and stared up at him.

“Reuben, he's her husband. She obviously loves him.”

“Still? Although he has betrayed us?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.”

“How would you feel if somebody described to you in fine detail how they were going to execute the person you loved?”

“That wouldn't happen,” Reuben declared confidently.

“And why not, pray?”

He met her searching sapphire eyes head-on. “Because nobody can try describing an execution, or speak at all for that matter, with my sword stuck in their throat.”

Ayla didn't say anything to that. She just stared up at him, her eyes still searching. There was an expression on her face as though she were gathering her courage for something.

“What?” Reuben asked, smirking. “Something is up. I can tell from your face.”

She glanced down. “Well…”

“What is it? Spit it out!”

“I…” Ayla hesitated and wet her lips.

The sight of her moist lips almost made Reuben's knees weak. His! His knees were never weak! It was women’s business to get weak knees, not his!

“I was just wondering,” she continued, “who is the lucky lady that would deserve such protection from infamy?”

Reuben sucked in a quick breath. The subject of their conversation, the mood in the room, the significance of the words—all changed in a moment. What did he care about some stupid traitor and his old hag? What did he care about an army of men in front of the gates or, for that matter, all the armies in the entire world?

Suddenly, there were only Ayla and he, and the question that was hovering in the air, unspoken.

“I think you know.” His voice sounded raspy and very far away to his own ears. “If my memory serves me right, I told you how I feel a long time ago.”

She looked up at him. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could see a tiny little smile hovering at the corners of her mouth.

“I just wanted to make sure you were being completely honest with me,” she gave him back his earlier words, and her smile broadened a little bit. Reuben thought her smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Well, apart from her eyes, and her hair, and her bre—

No! Satan’s hairy ass, he'd better concentrate on the smile for now!

“I was, Milady. Completely.”

“Good.”

“And, how do you feel about me?” he asked, his voice still not quite even.

“Well…” She glanced down again, a rosy glow spreading on her cheeks. Reuben wondered if she knew she was killing him. He also wondered how the hell she was doing it! She didn't even have a sword on her, or even a dagger! It was just a smile, for the Devil’s sake! But he could feel it piercing his heart!

“Are you sure you really want to know?” she asked in a small voice. “Wouldn't you rather have your compensation,” she infused the word with ladylike distaste, “and ride off once all this is finished, your pockets full of money?”

“Oh, I want my compensation,” Reuben growled, stepping forward and cupping her face with one hand, turning it up so she had to look into his eyes. “And what I want has nothing to do with money. It has nothing to do with me leaving, either. In fact, it requires me to stay, here, with you.”

“Is that so, Sir Reuben?”

“Yes, Milady.”

“Well, in that case…” Slowly, Ayla reached into her sleeve and drew something out of it. It was a linen handkerchief, in the exact same color as the Luntberg coat of arms: sapphire blue. “In that case, you may carry this when you next go into battle.”

She held the small piece of cloth out to him. Reuben's eyes went from her face to the handkerchief and back.

“At the court of the Emperor,” he said, testing each word carefully in his head before speaking it out loud, “at least years ago, when I was there, ladies used to give their handkerchiefs to a knight they favored at the tournament. That was not only a token that they wished this knight to win the contest, but also that they had certain feelings for him. Feelings some might call…love?”