The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(156)

“He is.”

“You seem to be quite fond of him,” the old man's voice stated cautiously.

Reuben could almost feel the warmth of Ayla's blush through the door.

“He…he is a valiant knight. We owe our lives to him.”

“Is that so? Well, we'll see. Go on.”

By the time Ayla’s story had reached the Battle of the Killing Fields and Reuben's plan that exterminated the enemy army, “resourceful” wasn't the word which Count Thomas used to describe him anymore. In fact, the count seemed to be lost for words altogether.

“Father?” Ayla asked cautiously after a few minutes of stunned silence. “Are you all right?”

There were a few more moments of quiet, then the count asked, “The entire army is really destroyed? Five hundred men?”

“Six hundred or more, if you count the men we killed in previous skirmishes.”

“Ah. I see.”

Again, the count lapsed into silence.

“Ayla?”

“Yes, Father?” Reuben could hear the anxiety in her voice. She had obviously not expected him to react like this. His strange calm and silence unsettled her. Probably she thought he was displeased for some reason, and clueless as to what would happen next.

To be honest, Reuben didn't have an idea, either.

“Why…”

“Why what, Father?”

“Why don't you bring this fellow Reuben in? I would like to meet him.”

~~*~~*

Flushed with happiness, Ayla ran to the door and flung it open. Reuben was leaning against the wall at the opposite end of the room, his arms crossed, whistling to himself innocently. Ayla was a bit too excited to notice that one of his ears was slightly reddened, as if it had been pressed against a hard surface.

“Reuben!” She beamed at him, to show him everything was all right. He had to have been terribly nervous, waiting out here alone, with no clue what was going on. “Come on in. My father wants to meet you!”

“Does he?” A simile of delighted surprise appeared on his face. “Really?”

“Yes!” Her smile widened at his obvious relief. “Come!”

“I will, and be honored to do so.”

Touching her hand in passing, he went into the room. Ayla followed him, pride and anxiety twisting inside her. On the one hand, she was fiercely proud of Reuben: proud of what he had achieved, of how handsome he was, and that he had chosen to give his love to her alone. On the other, her father's heart worried her. From all the years of lying down because his bones were unable to support him anymore, it had grown weak and frail. A shock might very well kill him, and he had already had his share of shocks today.

Now he would get another. He would see Reuben entering the room.

Ayla remembered well her own reaction when she had first saw him: six foot seven of pure muscle, topped by a ruggedly handsome face with dark gray eyes so intense they could burn a hole into your soul. If she’d had a bad heart, she would have died the first time he looked deeply into her eyes.

Her father seemed to share her feelings. When he first caught sight of the huge figure in red steel that seemed to fill out half the tower chamber, his eyes widened in shock. Then they traveled to the sword at his belt which matched its master’s proportions. A bit of color drained from his wrinkled old face of the count, but apart from that, he bore it well.

His face was the image of noble courtliness when he finally gave a slow bow of his head to Reuben.

“Welcome, Sir Knight. Welcome. I realize you have already been here for quite some time, but since I have not been able to say it before, I shall say it now. Welcome to my castle. I am honored to have you as a guest in my halls, Sir Reuben von…?”

He let the sentence trail off, leaving a question at the end.

Ayla frowned. In all the time she had spent worrying about Reuben's dark past, she had never once thought to contemplate which part of the Empire he might be from and what his noble titles were. This was something she would have to rectify.

Reuben gave a rueful smile to the count and bowed, so deeply, elegantly, and with perfect courtly precision that Ayla's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He actually had manners stowed away somewhere in a dark recesses of his soul?

“I am overjoyed to make your acquaintance, Count Thomas. I regret to say that I have no homeland or hereditary title, having been deprived of both by the cruel fortune of war.” His face took on such a convincing expression of sadness that Ayla almost believed it to be genuine. Almost. “I am sure, with your recent experiences, you can understand that I do not wish to think too much of that time in my life.”

“Of course, of course,” the count agreed, sympathy entering his gentle eyes. A smile lifted the corners of his lips. Ayla watched in amazement as Reuben won approval in her father's eyes with a few well-chosen words that painted him as a fellow sufferer. They were probably all lies, of course, but impressively delivered.

Her father reached out and seized Reuben's hand. “I did not want to speak to you to question you, Sir Reuben, but to thank you.”

For a moment, he was silent, holding Reuben's eyes and hand. Then the old man continued gravely, “I owe you my life, my daughter's life, everyone over whom I reign, and everything I possess. Such a debt can never be repaid. If there is anything that is in my power to give you, name it, and you shall have it.”