Page 55 of Retribution

Filly opened the door quietly, admitting Aidric behind her.

After that, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Cleodora only had eyes for Aidric, and he only had eyes for her, and somewhere in the midst of it, Filly slipped away and closed the door. Then, they were left with only the sounds of the street below through the open window.

But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

“My lord,” Cleodora finally said. “Thank you for coming.”

He smiled faintly. “Did you think I would not?”

She shrugged. “Things change,” she said. “Mayhap you were too busy to come. You are an important man with important duties. I would have understood.”

He indicated for her to reclaim her seat, pulling up a chair of his own once she sat down. For a moment, they simply gazed at each other as the air between them filled with a miasma of interest and attraction. It was almost a tangible thing. Aidric was the one who finally broke the spell.

“Nothing short of an act of God could have kept me from coming,” he said. “I told you that we would speak today. I always keep my word.”

“That is because you are a man of honor.”

“I am.”

“I’ve not known many of those.”

He shrugged. “We are around, but you have to look for us,” he said. “Every man I serve with is a man of honor, however. I would not accept anything less.”

“You have served the monarchy for a long time?”

He nodded. “A very long time,” he said. “Henry formed the Guard of Six years ago and I am one of the original guards.”

She looked at him curiously. “A king has so many soldiers and knights at his disposal,” she said. “I find it interesting that he should form a special guard. Doesn’t he have enough men to protect him?”

Aidric grinned, flashing his straight teeth. “He has thousands,” he said. “But the Guard of Six adhere to the king like a shadow. We do not go looking for trouble but rather repel it when it comes. And that is something I want to speak to you about.”

Her warm expression faded. “You mean the orders that Cambridge has given me.”

He nodded. After a moment, he leaned forward in his chair, just close enough to reach out and take her hand. Rather than pull away, or sit there in shock like she did once before, she grasped his hand and held it tightly. The action must have surprised him because he squeezed her hand in return, his fingers gently caressing her own.

“I told Edward what you told me,” he said quietly. “As the king, he has a right to know if someone is out to kill him, does he not? For his own safety, I was compelled to tell him about our conversation.”

Her eyes widened and he could see tears threatening. “He wants to throw me in the vault, doesn’t he?” she said, sniffing. “He wants me imprisoned.”

He squeezed her hand again, gently. “Nay, sweet, he does not,” he said. “That never even came up in conversation. He knows you are not to blame. But this is a situation that you and I must speak of honestly.”

She sniffled, blinking back the tears. “Of course,” she said. “But I have told you all I can.”

He was still gently fondling her fingers, trying to ease her. “I believe you,” he said. “But we must consider something in all of this, and that is… if you fail at your task, which you will, how determined is Cambridge to see Edward dead? Will he send someone else to do what you could not?”

She really didn’t have an answer for him. “I do not know,” she said truthfully. “The first time I ever heard him speak about the death of the king was when he told me what he wanted me to do. I do not know if he will send anyone else or if he will simply forget about it. I will tell you that he tends to be fickle. Things that mean a great deal to him one day can mean nothing to him the next.”

“And you think he might forget his desire to see the king dead?”

She shrugged. “It is possible,” she said. “But it is equally possible that when I fail, he will send Neville de Baume or hire another assassin.”

Aidric mulled that over. He sat there, looking at her, holding her hand and hating Cambridge more by the second. The man had taken advantage of this sweet, kind woman and he found that incredibly enraging. Moreover, he didn’t care what de Velt said—he believed her. He didn’t think she was capable of manipulation and assassination.

But he could also see how she could weaken him terribly.

He’d told de Velt that there was no woman on earth who could convince him to dishonor his oath, but the more he looked at Cleodora, the more he could understand how things like that happened. He could only imagine de Velt in a similar situation with a lady warrior, his guard down and vulnerable as she tried to ruin him and his career.

That thought was the least bit terrifying.