The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(3)

From what he knew of Ayla, the latter was probable. She wouldn't let any residual feelings she still had for him interfere with her duty to safeguard her people.

With a bitter smile on his face, Reuben drew back and closed the door.

Residual feelings? Whom was he trying to fool? Now that she knew the truth, she probably had more feelings for the ugliest bedbug in the castle than for him. Her words had made that pretty evident.

“Are we being bombarded?” the old knight persisted, glaring at Reuben.

“No,” snapped he. “We're not.”

“Then what was that noise? That slamming noise?”

The image flashed in front of Reuben's inner eye: Ayla slamming the door shut in his face. Forever?

“The sound of my death sentence, maybe,” he growled.

“I have not the pleasure of understanding you, Sir.”

“Then don't! What do I care?”

Sir Isenbard's mouth dropped slightly open at that. He closed it quickly, collected himself again, and continued: “And what were you doing just now, peering out of the door like that?”

“That's none of your fobbing business!”

The eyes of the old knight narrowed indignantly. “You are very rude, Sir.”

“Yes, I am. Get used to it.”

His fists clenched, Reuben turned away from the door. Her words, oh, her final words, just before the door slammed shut…

I never want to see you again in this world or the next, you miserable worm!

You couldn't be much clearer than that, now, could you?

She had to really hate him to have said that.

~~*~~*

Why did I say that? was the question that kept beating on the door of Ayla's mind like a battering ram. Why did I say that when there's nothing I want as much as to be in his arms right now and to hear him tell me that he loves me?

Well, that wasn't quite correct. There was one thing she wanted more: having him put in the stocks[2] and pelted with rotten cabbage for what he had done to her and Eleanor. This was so confusing. She loved him, didn't she? Or did she hate him? Maybe both? Or neither?

Tears ran down Ayla's cheeks in rivulets as she ran through the nocturnal castle. No one noticed her distress—they all had to deal with far too much of their own. The castle was swarming with refugees from the village, carrying small packs with their few personal belongings on their shoulders, leading children behind them, or just holding each other, trying not to think of what the merciless mercenaries out there in the night were doing with their homes at this very moment.

Ayla leaned against a wall and took a deep breath. After a few more sobs, she shook herself, bit her lip, and managed to steady her breathing.

What was she doing? Hundreds of people were all around her. Her people. People who had lost far more than a horse in the course of the last few days. They had lost their homes, their hearths, their fields and trees that were their only means of survival.

Were they also to lose hope?

No, she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't show weakness in front of them. She was Ayla von Luntberg, and she had a duty to fulfill.

Even if the pain was enough to bring her to her knees. She clenched her hands into fists and her breath quickened again as she remembered how heartless he had been. She had hardly been able to believe that this man who stood in front of her like a terrible enemy was the same Reuben who, only a few hours ago, had pledged his love to her.

Lies. All lies.

A bit too convincing for lies, wasn't it? a small voice in the back of her mind said.

No. It had to be lies. He had lied to her all the time. He had stolen from her. He was her enemy. He should be taken to the gallows and—

She stopped her thoughts right there.

No.

She didn't have time to deal with this right now. Later. He was under guard and wouldn't escape, she had seen to that. She would deal with him later.

Now she had to attend to the needs of her people. Again, she steadied her breathing and, with the sleeve of her dress, wiped the tears from her eyes.

She had to rationalize this.

It couldn't hurt, right?

Because it could only hurt if you actually had some feelings for the treacherous scoundrel who had lied to you all the time. And that, she assured herself while still furiously wiping tears from her eyes, had obviously not been the case with Reuben and herself. After all, throughout the whole of their acquaintance, she had conducted herself with the utmost morality!

Well, yes, there had been that one kiss on the forehead…and yes, there had been that one time when she fell on him while bandaging a wound and landed in his arms, but that was nothing special. No mark of peculiar feelings.

Feelings? Ha! No sane woman could have feelings for such an arrogant, impertinent, uncouth, villainous, handsome and charming blaggard. Such an animal in the shape of a man.

Ayla stood erect and raised her chin. She had to do her duty now and not think of the man with whom she wasn't in love. No, she wasn't. Definitely not.

~~*~~*

Reuben sighed.

Who could blame her if she hated him? She had every right to treat him as her enemy.

And as an enemy, he had to prepare himself for the attack. He marched over to the table and grabbed the iron candlestick. It was the only weapon he could find. If the guards came for him, they would not find him unprepared. But what if she came with them?