The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(147)

And a lot of good it will do your smoldering remains, he thought sarcastically.

But then, hadn't she told him she loved him? Yes, she had. He didn’t know a lot about this thing called “love,” but usually, people who felt it for each other didn’t burn each other alive, right?

Maybe I should tell her. If she truly loves me…

But that much? Enough to ignore what he was? Enough to ignore what no god-fearing woman should ignore?

~~*~~*

Reuben didn't ask what Ayla wanted to discuss with him as they rode down the path into the valley, and Ayla was incredibly grateful for it. She needed to gather her courage to say what she had to say. They rode in companionable silence, past the path to the village, past the enemy's camp, where they waved to the men at work dismantling everything, and into a sunlit meadow with a single apple tree at its edge.

Ayla cleared her throat. It felt as though it hadn't been used in a very long time.

“People drive their flock here often,” she remarked, reigning in her horse and looking over the meadow. “It's good grazing. I used to come here often as a child. I used to climb the apple tree over there, eat as many apples as I could, and feed the rest to the animals.”

“You? Climbing trees?” Reuben raised an eyebrow. “I'd like to have seen that. Especially from below, if you were wearing a skirt.”

Ayla felt one corner of her mouth lift. “I might have let you.”

“How unladylike of you.”

Ayla smiled. “I was quite wild when I was young. You know, with mother dead and father falling ill, Burchard really was mother and father for me.”

“And you just have to look at his giant mustache to know he is so motherly! He must have done a good job.”

Ayla's shoulder's shook. “Oh, do be quiet!”

“Did he ever put on an apron and try to teach you how to sew and spin wool?”

The mental image was too much for Ayla. She broke out in a fit of laughter.

“That's not fair!” she gasped. “I came out here to discuss something serious with you!”

“Too bad.” Grinning at her, Reuben slid out of the saddle. “Do you think he'll teach me how to sew? Sounds like a useful skill.”

“Reuben!”

He didn't stop grinning, but fell silent and let her catch her breath. When she could finally talk again, she said, “How about letting the horses run free? I've hated it, having to keep Eleanor cooped up in the castle.” Lovingly, she stroked the mare's side. “She could do with a bit of freedom.”

“And I'm sure Satan would appreciate it, too.” Reuben nodded and began unfastening the saddle straps. He pretended not to notice when Ayla scowled at him.

“Haven't you changed his name yet?”

“No.” He flashed his devilish grin up at her. “Never will, either.”

Ayla chose not to dignify that with a response. Instead, she slid out of the saddle and relieved Eleanor of her burden. Then she hugged her beloved mare around the neck, feeling warm inside.

“We're free again, my girl,” she whispered. “Do you hear me? Free. Go and have fun. There's a lot of fresh grass for you to nibble out there.”

Regarding her with large, black horse eyes, Eleanor gave Ayla's sleeve an affectionate nibble. Ayla laughed. “Yes, I know. You always prefer me to grass. But you have to be hungry, and I'm not very edible. Go, off with you! I'll watch you having fun.”

With a last whinny to her two-legged friend, the mare turned and galloped out onto the meadow. Ayla watched her with moisture in her eyes.

Beside her, Reuben was busy heaving the saddle off the back of the horse whose name Ayla refused to think about.

“There you go, Satan, you old crock!” He gave the horse a hefty slap on the rump. “Go and find something evil to do!”

The “old crock” promptly fulfilled his master's wishes by aiming a savage back hoof kick at his head. Reuben deftly dodged the attack and watched his horse galloping off after Eleanor fondly.

“You have such a way with animals,” Ayla commented, shaking her head.

“And with people, too,” he retorted, leaning closer with another devilish grin.

“In your dreams,” she mumbled and wandered over to the apple tree. There, she sat down with her back against the trunk and relaxed. The whole scenery was so peaceful, and the last few days—and really the weeks before that—had been so exhausting… It was nice to sit here in the sun and watch two beautiful horses chasing each other across a meadow, even if she strongly disapproved of one of their names.

Seeing this peaceful picture before her, it sank in for the first time since Luca's death that the feud really was over. Peace had indeed returned to Luntberg, and she now had her whole life ahead of her once more, to do with as she pleased. It was a wonderful feeling.

Then she heard footsteps beside her and saw two plate armor boots, painted blood-red, entering her vision. With that sight returned the knowledge that, with the power to make her own decisions, also came the possibility of making her own mistakes. She prayed to heaven that this would not turn out to be one of them.

“May I?” Reuben asked. At least he did ask. But, being Reuben, he didn't wait for an answer before flopping down in the grass beside her and draping an arm around her shoulder. She stiffened. Oh no. This was way too close a proximity to him for what she had planned. She needed to keep a clear head, and with his body so seductively pressing against hers, making her tingle all over, a clear head was the last thing she would have.