CHAPTER 10 #2
His right hand slipped underneath the table. Had he concealed a knife down there? But no, his waistcoat wiggled on that side. He was fidgeting with the hem again.
“I don’t know much about flowers, Your Majesty. Miss Beatrice likes to grow them, but I was always at the smithy. I didn’t pay them much mind.”
“Is a painter’s skill required to appreciate a work of art?” Mother countered with a hidden smile. “Half of enjoying the gardens is enjoying the company.”
The weapon-smith’s eyebrows furrowed as he shot Sakura another look. “Right. The company.”
He didn’t need to seem so put out by the idea. Sakura lifted her nose a little. It was only right that she feel that way about him. But shouldn’t he want the attention of a princess?
The meal finished, and they rose. Sakura planned to hurry away, but the queen’s eyes pinned her in place. “It would be best if you leave together. That way, you won’t miss each other on your way out.”
Curses.
Matching her stride to the weapon-smith’s, Sakura paced down the long table across from him. He stopped at the end, his upper lip and eyebrows wrinkling with hesitation that was not adorable. Turning, he reached for the door, but the servants had already opened it.
“Keenan,” the queen called expectantly, “aren’t you going to escort her?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “I…am?”
“She means with your arm,” Sakura huffed. “Ignorant peasant.”
When his face closed off, she grabbed his left arm and positioned it, then set her hand on his forearm.
A quiet sound drew her eyes to him. Keenan’s lips were smashed together, and the crease between his eyebrows spoke to—
Pain. This was his injured arm.
Lifting her hand, she moved it up to settle just above his elbow instead. It wasn’t the proper position, but he shouldn’t suffer because Mother had taken temporary leave of her senses.
Even if it turned out that he was responsible for it.
Sakura couldn’t read Keenan’s expression as he shifted his arm, watching her with those blue eyes of his. He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled her through the door beside him.
Her soft shoes were silent as she minced down the hallway, but Keenan’s footsteps echoed off the stone walls. Sakura examined the tapestries to distract herself from the weapon-smith at her side. He was in Ryuni as a guardsman. He was suspicious. And almost worse – he was common.
“Cloaks first?” Keenan stared straight ahead, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “I don’t know about you, but your glare isn’t quite hot enough to keep me warm in the current weather conditions.”
She tightened her lips. “Perhaps it escaped your notice, weapon-smith, but this excursion was not my idea.”
“No,” he agreed. “Although, you’re the first girl to ever hold my arm, so I could be wrong…”
She risked a peek. There was a distinct curve to his lips now.
“But your hand doesn’t seem as upset as your face.” His eyes flicked toward her, and he winked.
Suddenly aware that her fingers had been caressing the soft sleeve of his borrowed shirt and the solid muscle beneath, she forced her unruly digits to still. “Yes, we should fetch our cloaks. But Mother will hear of it if we part, so we’ll have to go together,” she grumbled.
His free hand tugged at his waistcoat. “How long do you think she expects me to stay? At the gardens, that is?”
“I don’t know.” Frowning, Sakura followed him into the next hallway. “Perhaps we can part ways in the gardens, then return together after.”
“My door is down there,” Keenan said, tugging her along when she stopped.
Sakura took a deep breath. “Yes. And this is mine.” His forehead furrowed as his eyes jumped between their respective doors. “I trust you won’t abuse that knowledge?”
“No, ma’am.” He looked at her with sober eyes, any trace of his earlier teasing gone. “I protect women; I don’t hurt them.”
“All women?” She raised an eyebrow. “Not just Liesl?”
He looked away, a shadow crossing his face. “It’s the reason I joined her.”
When he failed to continue, Sakura released his arm and entered her room. It wasn’t as if she was curious about his reasons. Not unless they pertained to her mother’s odd behavior.
Kasumi had draped her cloak over the back of an armchair, so Sakura was back at the door in moments. She paused in the doorway. Keenan’s face was still turned away from her, and he stood with his arms across his chest, almost folded in on himself. It made him look very young.
“I’m not a ma’am,” she said stiffly, acting as if each of their last comments hadn’t occurred. “I’ll thank you to call me by my proper title.”
He spun back to her, his eyebrows pulling together as his head jerked back. “Sorry, Your Highness.” Eyeing her uncertainly, he offered his arm again. “I don’t interact with many princesses.”
“Nor I with weapon-smiths.” She set her hand on his arm and looked pointedly down the hall. “Let’s get this over with.”
His new stony expression was good. Much better than the lighthearted one from earlier. Because if there was one thing everyone in the castle knew, it was that Sakura wasn’t friendly with servants.
And it was best for everyone if she kept it that way.