Ever the Brave (A Clash of Kingdoms Novel)(87)
“You’ll be warmer if we share body heat . . . like last night,” she says, though it comes out more as a question than a statement. She stares hard at the bedroll.
It’s all I need as motivation to shrug off my tunic. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m bitter cold and right now her body heat is as essential as food and water.
Her eyes flare, but she turns and starts to undo the ties of her dress.
“That would be good. The storm is getting worse,” I say, to reassure her. She’s as skittish as a new lord coming to his first day of court. It’s one more night. We don’t want to freeze to death tonight.
Not when we could possibly find Omar and Cohen tomorrow. Once I meet with Omar, we can plan how to take back Brentyn and Castle Neart. I’ll decide which troops to gather. I’m not sure word has reached the fiefdoms about the lords who have died. Britta’s comment about me being able to take whatever I wanted since I’m the king has stuck with me. The thought of seizing soldiers from a fallen noble’s fiefdom and forcing them to fight for me without their fealty doesn’t sit right. Even if it’s the way of kings, the last thing I want to do is become the tyrant my father was. I won’t be like him.
Britta tosses her dress on top of the bedroll. I follow it with my trousers and tunic. Then I quickly climb into the bedroll so I don’t embarrass her further with my lack of dress. She’s left standing in a body-hugging chemise that traces her hips and the rounds of her breasts and—
Gods, I have to stop staring.
“This connection between us,” I forge ahead as she crawls into the bedroll and lies down beside me. Her eyes are turned upward while mine follow the lines of her face. “I know what you did for me was an extraordinary gift. One I’ll never take for granted. It’s not my intention to edge out Cohen.”
She twists to face me. “You want to discuss that now?” A startled laugh puffs from her pale rose lips. “Right, then. You say my honesty is brazen. I’m not going to lie. The bond to you has been an adjustment. It came at a price I didn’t realize I was going to have to pay.”
I know Britta would never jeopardize her relationship with Cohen. It’s clear by the way she talks about him that she loves him. However, I wonder if she’ll ever see me past the bond. Will she recognize that I appreciate her rugged resilience? She may be slight, may appear breakable, but if there was ever a woman who could weather any storm, it’d be her.
Shivers make my body convulse while she’s still leaning away from me, considering our conversation. Without asking, I snake my arm around her and tug her over to me so our bodies are lined up. She lets out a surprised oof. I need the warmth right now. My hands itch to run over her back and along the curve of her hip, but I keep them fisted.
“I used to have a similar connection with Cohen,” she admits after a beat. I feel her ribs expand and contract against mine. Her hands move, sliding over my chest and shoulders, then back down my arms. She mutters something about my icicle body before continuing with our conversation. “But when I saved you, it was broken. I don’t know if it was because he gave me some of his energy to save you. Or if I can only be connected to one person at a time. That’s the hardest thing for me. I don’t know how this happened between us. Or how to end it. I spent the first while being angry at you for taking away what I had with Cohen.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m getting used to it,” Britta says, hands pausing.
“So what will happen to us?”
She rests her forehead against my shoulder and turns her chin down so I cannot see her face. “I don’t know. I wish I knew more about my ability. But the only Spiriter offering to teach me is bent on killing you.” Her left hand ventures across my torso and then back to her side as if she cannot decide where to place it.
“Your mother?”
“Please don’t call her that.”
I flatten her fluttering hand to my chest, like pinning a butterfly. “My father was a monster, remember? There’s no shame in wanting even the smallest understanding of her.”
“Thanks for saying that.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I think you’re the only one who understands.”
I wish I could erase the furrow in her brow. I imagine she’s thinking of Cohen. That makes me come to my senses and release her hand.
“Good night, Britta.” I roll to my side, facing away.
Chapter
41
Cohen
IN KATALLIA’S MAIN ROOM, WE’RE ALL GATHERED around the fire, aside from Omar, who sleeps upstairs. Leif returned from town minutes ago. When he entered the home, snow clung to his hair. Now, as he addresses our group, it melts into drops that stain the shoulders of his tunic.
“Lord Jamis gathered his followers and planned a rebellion, starting with the castle,” he begins. He launches into the story, sharing what he gathered in town. There’s no way to lessen the gravity of Castle Neart being taken. We all sit around, stunned into silence at the lengths that Jamis, the power-hungry, blood-spilling madman, has been willing to go for control. The country would be in better hands if the Akarians from the south were to take over.
We need to fortify our group and lead a counterattack. We need to get inside Neart and see if there are any survivors. And see if we can find King Aodren, who’s apparently missing. We need to put him back on the throne.