The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(176)

“I know, Sir Reuben, but the Emperor desires your presence.”

Reuben brightened. “Another quest?”

“I don’t believe so, Sir, no. He has a lady as his guest who has expressed a desire to meet you.”

Well, that wasn’t as good as a quest, but at least there would be a lady to take the place of the one he had to walk away from.

“Forgive me, my love.” Taking the anonymous girl’s hands in his, Reuben kissed the back of them passionately. “My love pulls me inexorably towards you, but duty calls. I shall return as swift as the wind.”

Which, since there was no wind blowing in the blistering heat outside, wasn’t particularly fast. But, to judge from the blush and delighted giggle of the girl, she didn’t know that.

Rising and turning away, Reuben nodded to the servant. “Lead the way.”

“Yes, Sir Reuben.”

When they entered the throne room, Reuben saw the lady immediately: she was sitting in a chair beside the Emperor’s throne. Her head was turned towards Friedrich, so Reuben couldn’t see her face, but he was fairly certain he had never seen her before. He would have remembered that slender, elegant neck, that river of midnight-black curls falling down her back, or the silk veil that lay in her lap—

Wait a minute! Veil?

An image flashed through his mind of a proud, exotically veiled figure, sitting in the shadows of the Emperor’s box, watching him fight down in the dust. He had seen her before—during the tournament! Only, he had never seen her face or learned her name.

High time to rectify that.

“Your Imperial Majesty?” Reuben knelt. “You called?”

“Ah, yes. Rise, my dear vassal.” The Emperor’s eyes twinkled. “I have here someone I think you ought to meet. The lady has expressed a desire to be acquainted with the man who is the talk of the town these days—the glorious victor of the tournament.”

Reuben was about to make a reply, but right then, the lady in question turned and smiled at him, and his words stuck in his throat.

She wasn’t wearing a veil now. Her face was clear for everyone to see, and it was beautiful. Not merely pretty-beautiful, but hands-down certified angelically beautiful. Not that she looked anything like an angel. No, with her shining emerald eyes, sleek black hair, and that smile that went a little further up on one side, inviting you in, she looked more like an oriental princess. Too dark and entirely too desirable to be a messenger of heaven. Reuben gazed at her, transfixed.

“Sir Knight.” Half rising, she did a little sort of a curtsy, inclining her graceful neck in a way that made Reuben want to grab her and kiss her all the way down from her ear to her collarbone and maybe further down, too. With great difficulty, he refrained. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he heard himself say. Grasping her delicate little hand, he lifted it to his lips and caressed the back of it with a single, reverent kiss. “And it would be an even greater pleasure if you were to grace my ears with the heavenly sound of your name, beautiful one.”

Beside him, the Emperor smiled in satisfaction, rose, and left the room. Reuben didn’t even really notice it, let alone stop to wonder why the Emperor would allow two strangers to be alone in his throne room. All his thoughts were for the beauty in front of him.

“I am Salvatrice,” she said, casting her eyes down and glancing up at him from underneath her long, dark lashes. “But you must not say such things, Sir Knight! You flatter me too much.”

“That cannot be. If a thousand angels were to sing the praises of your beauty, it would not be sufficient.” Reuben sighed. “Salvatrice…the name is as musical as the trickling of a fountain. I could have found none better to match your perfection.”

Reuben bent to kiss her hand again.

“And what is your name, oh gallant warrior?” she asked. Her voice was so melodious it made Reuben’s heart ache. “I heard people shout it at the tournament, but they were shouting in such a confusion, I did not really understand and could not keep hold of it. I only know it was something foreign. Nordic. Strong.”

“To you, I am simply the willing slave of your beauty,” Reuben said, enraptured. “But, to others, I am known as Sir Reuben von Limburg, Son of Heinrich, Duke von Limburg, Count von Berg, and High Commander of the Imperial Crusade Forces.”

A frown formed on her lovely brow. “Crusade?”

Oh no. Reuben froze in horror and closed his eyes. He should have seen this coming and kept his mouth shut! But he had been mesmerized by her exotic beauty, and now it was too late. He knew what question would follow now.

She smiled up at him adoringly, batting her long, dark lashes. “The crusade in which the ingenious tactics of the Emperor and his commander made it possible to take back the Holy City without striking a single blow at the enemy? The Crusade which surpassed all its predecessors in glory and triumph? That crusade?”

Reuben snapped his eyes open, gazing at her in utter astonishment and adoration. A smile spread across his face, and he suddenly realized that he loved this extraordinary woman with every fiber of his heart. And he wouldn’t stop loving her in a few hours or tomorrow or next week or ever, for that matter. The devil would take him before that happened!

“Yes,” he sighed. “Exactly that crusade!”