Chapter 24 #2
I drift farther back, wishing the hall offered more in the way of columns or pedestals to duck behind, and a perfect solution presents itself in the form of Benedikt.
The bastard’s bastard strolls jauntily out of a nearby stairwell, looking as though he’s making for the dining hall. I dash over before he can get very far.
“Walk with me,” I say under my breath as I catch his elbow. “Pretend we’re having an absolutely fascinating discussion about some favor I’m asking you to do for my employer. And if Romild glances our way, block her view of me.”
Benedikt chuckles and swerves to join me, his gray eyes dancing with good humor. He pitches his voice similarly low. “I don’t know if I’d bother to do any favors for Stavros, but I’ll certainly lend you a hand. Or several, if I can collect them.”
I manage not to roll my eyes at him. At least he’s the most amenable of Julita’s men to playing along.
It’s hard not to appreciate his good humor. And to stop myself from flashing back to my dream when he—
I shove those memories away as well as I can, which is admittedly not very well. He’s sauntering along next to me, his embroidered vest hanging loose over his dress shirt—which, in typical Benedikt style, he’s left open halfway down his chest.
Maybe I’ve denied my bodily desires too much in the past couple of years. The glimpse I get of the muscular landscape beneath nearly sends my mind reeling right back to my overheated imaginings.
I jerk my gaze to Benedikt’s face just as he leans his head conspiratorially close. “Why exactly are we following this fine lady? Out of curiosity.”
“She might have had something to do with the daimon going wild at the ball,” I say. “She also might have been the person who poisoned me the other evening.”
“All right, those are two very good reasons for me to delay my breakfast. I’m honored that you called on me for assistance and will assume it had everything to do with my extreme prowess rather than because I happened to be the only person around.”
I can’t quite stifle a guffaw. Even though I’m only holding his arm to keep him within shielding distance, I give it a quick squeeze. “You’re an excellent choice.”
He taps one of his sacrificed earlobes. “My gift might come in handy, depending on exactly what you’re planning. I have a knack for distracting people, just a little, when I want to get out of trouble.”
My eyebrow leaps up. “And how often are you getting into trouble?”
He waggles his eyebrows right back. “I’ve got to keep a few secrets to maintain my intriguing aura of mystery.”
I snort in amusement.
Honestly, it might be fun to have Benedikt along on one of my thieving exploits on the fringes. I can imagine him enjoying sticking it to a few con artists.
Picturing taking on the assholes in the outer wards with company warms me for a few seconds. Then I consider the stink and the dirt and everything else about those streets any noble would turn up their nose at.
No, he’d never actually stoop that low even for a lark, would he?
I hate the way my heart sinks with that knowledge.
Benedikt cocks his head. “I wonder where exactly Miss Possible Poisoner is off to?”
Romild has strode straight past the library doors and picked up her pace even more as she approaches the next bend in the hall.
Julita hums. It’s just the recreational rooms over there—cards, billiards, darts, and the like. Although I suppose that isn’t a horrible place to conduct a clandestine meeting without being too suspicious.
I slow as we reach the corner and peek around it. Romild is bustling onward, so Benedikt and I continue after her.
“What are you studying here anyway?” I ask him, to keep up the appearance that we’re having some important discussion. And because I’m interested, whether I should be or not.
Benedikt shrugs as if it doesn’t matter all that much.
“Oh, a little of this and a little of that. Technically I belong to the leadership division, not that I expect to lead much of anything. As I mentioned before, responsibility isn’t really my forte.
We royalty-adjacent types tend to get relegated into minor roles to keep us happy and mostly out of trouble. ”
“That does seem like it might be a difficult proposition for you.”
“But I’m very rarely bored.” Benedikt taps his chin. “I wonder what ‘favors’ I should ask Stavros to do for me in return? So many wonderful possibilities that would absolutely piss him off.”
My lips twitch with a smirk at the thought—and at the same moment, Romild draws to a halt outside one of the rooms farther down the hall.
She peers inside and hesitates. Then she folds her arms over her chest and starts to pivot on her heel.
Shit, she’s turning right back toward us.
I clutch Benedikt’s arm in warning, but his gaze is already fixed on our target, noting her movements.
He swings toward me without missing a beat and flashes his roguish smile. “Don’t stab me for this, Knives.”
Before I can wonder what he’s talking about, he nudges me up against the wall, leans his arm next to my head to hide my face, and plants his mouth on mine.
In the first instant, I think I must still be dreaming. But the heat of Benedikt’s very real kiss sparks a giddy thrill in me that’s beyond anything my imagination conjured. My body tingles from head to toe as if I’ve been struck by a particularly delicious bolt of lightning.
It’s far from my first kiss, but I can’t say I’ve ever been kissed quite like this.
My breath hitches, Benedikt’s tongue flicks skillfully over my bottom lip, and the part of my brain that actually wants me to survive the next week wakes up.
I’m not supposed to be kissing this man. I’m already in over my head enough.
I’d jerk away from him, but Benedikt eases back a few inches at the tensing of my body. He stays close enough to block any clear view of me from down the hall, his eyes still twinkling. “I think that did the trick.”
I give him a pointed look, grasping hold of the remains of my self-restraint. “I’m pretty sure you could have accomplished the same result without going quite that far.”
He offers me a smirk that’s softer than usual. “This way was more fun. You’ll have to forgive me for taking the opportunity that presented itself. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you nearly unmanned Stavros.”
His gaze flicks up to my forehead. “And if our ghostly friend enjoyed it too, all the better.”
The reference to Julita—to the fact that he was thinking about her soul inside me when he kissed me—douses any lingering heat. I clench my jaw and draw myself up a little straighter against the wall.
A flick of my eyes tells me that Romild hasn’t gone anywhere. She’s standing with her back mostly to us again, staring at the note she was handed while she seems to wait for someone.
“Shall we—” Benedikt starts, and a different familiar voice reaches my ears from the opposite end of the hall.
“Make sure the carriage is ready. I’ll be out in a few minutes after I take care of one more matter.”
Ster. Torstem calls the words over his shoulder as he steps into the hall from one of the archways leading to the outer doors—speaking to a page or an assistant, I have to assume. He marches past our hallway in the direction of the library.
My heart skips a beat.
A carriage. He’s going out somewhere in the city—to the orphanage? To arrange some other plans we’d want to know about?
This is an opportunity I might not get again. There’s only one possible course of action that fixes all of the problems I’ve just stumbled into.
I give Benedikt’s arm a quick pat, willing the flush out of my cheeks. “Keep an eye on Romild until you’ve seen who she’s meeting here. I’m going to find out what Torstem’s up to.”