Page 32 of The Piper's Pursuit

Even if he and Katerina never received the acclaim for killing it.

They were making their way up, keeping off the path so they would be less likely to be seen or followed. Katerina was quite close to him when her arm brushed against his. She snatched her arm away and mumbled something as she moved farther away.

His heart sank at the way she flinched. Would she flinch away from Hans?

He was jealous. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt that particular feeling before, not over a woman. If he was honest, he might admit that he’d felt jealous of Valten for being the firstborn son and getting an inheritance, and jealous of Gabe when he married a woman of considerable fortune, and jealous of his sister’s husband when Steffan’s father gave him a castle and land, which came with great honor and power. But this was a different feeling.

This woman had him wishing she liked him, trusted him, admired him.

And it wasn’t only because he considered her a challenge. She was beautiful. And intriguing. And she cared more about finding those children than about her own interests. Here he was contemplating the honor and attention he could get from saving these children, but she truly cared about them. She loved the people of her town in a way that reminded him of how his father felt about the people of Hagenheim.

Still, she was quite stubborn. She didn’t trust him or like him, and she clearly didn’t want him to get too close. She would hate him if she knew all that he had done, all the wrong, stupid things, the bad choices, the ways he had disappointed his family. The ways he’d hurt people.

They were nearly to the spot where they’d been attacked by the wolf earlier and seen the other one run away. He strode forward to get ahead of her. “Be careful,” he said.

“Why?”

“I just have a feeling we’re not safe here.”

She turned her head enough to look him in the eye. “Are you saying you are a prophet?” Her smile was brief, but it still sent a warmth through his chest.

“I’m not a good enough person to be a prophet.” He became aware of how near she was as she turned her whole body to face him.

“I should think if you were a bad fellow, you would be telling me how good you are. Besides, where is it written that a prophet must be exceptionally good?”

“Very well. Perhaps I am a prophet.” He rested his hand on his sword hilt. He still had the feeling that danger lurked nearby, so he glanced around, listening, checking for any signs that someone or something meant them harm. But he was quite enjoying this less defensive side of Katerina. He didn’t want to let the opportunity escape him.

“I prophesy that you will learn more about me, and I shall learn more about you.”

“Oh?” She raised her brows at him.

“You shall be surprised to find that, although I am a mighty warrior capable of courageous and mighty feats of valor, I am also quite trustworthy.”

“But this does not agree with what you said about not being good.”

He sighed. “I have not always been so trustworthy. When I was younger I defied my father and was often angry. I teased my sisters to tears sometimes, and I was reckless. But almost a year ago, I decided I wanted to be a better man.”

“So you were not always a kindhearted prophet?”

He shook his head. He used to think of himself as a kindhearted fellow, but now he realized he’d done many things that were not kind at all. “I never wished to hurt anyone, but sometimes my thoughts and actions were wrong. I trusted people who were not worthy of my trust, and I rebelled against the people I should have been faithful to.”

She had a thoughtful look on her face as she stared back at him. What was she thinking? Had he said too much? He wanted her to know the real Steffan, but at the same time, he was afraid she wouldn’t like him if she saw all the ugliness of his past.

Perhaps it had been too long since he’d been to confession. He should stop talking, or he might just tell Katerina everything he’d ever done wrong.

“Shall I tell you what I’ve heard about you?”

He groaned. He knew it was bad, but he was curious if it was the truth.

Ten

Katerina studied Steffan’s face. It was a handsome face, even with the scars. Sometimes they made him look dangerous; other times they gave him a vulnerable look. But when she asked him if he wanted to hear the rumors about him, he made a low sound in this throat.

“Mostly that you are the rebellious one of the Duke of Hagenheim’s children and that you joined the Teutonic Knights against your father’s wishes. But since you are not actually a Teutonic Knight, I suppose that is false.”

“It is nearly true.” His expression was a bit sad, not jocular or bold, which were his usual expressions. “I am the rebellious son, and I fought with the Teutonic Knights in Poland, with the intent of becoming one of them. But I changed my mind.”

“What happened? I recall you telling me that you did not wish to become a monk, which you would have to do to join with the German Order of Teutonic Knights.”