Page 63 of The Last Knight

“Your hair grows fast,” she said, her voice quiet, almost tentative. “Do you like it that long?”

He turned slightly, giving her a glimpse of his chiseled profile before his gaze drifted back toward the horizon. “I prefer it shorter,” he replied. “I didn’t notice the time, but it seems you’re earlier than usual.”

She walked toward him, stopping just a breath away, close, but not quite touching. “I came home early today,” she explained. “There’s a woman training with Matt at the studio. She’s working toward becoming a certified instructor. It gives me a bit more freedom in the afternoons.”

Something in his posture shifted, a subtle tension in the line of his shoulders.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” she asked softly. “I want to show you something.”

They wandered across the property, feet crunching softly against the gravel path, until they reached a small pond tucked beneath a weeping willow. A bench stood beneath its sweeping branches; the back and legs made from artfully twisted wood that gave the illusion of vines frozen mid-climb.

“My grandfather made it,” Aubrey said, settling onto the seat. “It’s one of my favorite spots. I come here when I need quiet. Sometimes I journal. Sometimes I just lie back and think.”

Gunther joined her, his brows furrowed, the handsome face shadowed. Then, without looking at her, he asked, “Why have you been keeping your distance? Does it trouble you that I’m here?”

Her heart lurched.

“Oh God, no.” Her voice was breathless. “I love that you’re here.”

His eyes met hers then, those piercing, beautiful blue eyes that always made her feel like he could see straight through and into her mind. She nearly sighed at the sheer intensity of him, the way he made even silence feel electric.

“Then why?”

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, every carefully rehearsed word fleeing her brain. She looked away briefly, then back at him. “It’s just…hard,” she admitted. “Being around you and pretending I’m unaffected.”

He said nothing, just watched her with that unreadable expression.

“I’m so attracted to you,” she whispered, cheeks flushing. “But I didn’t want you to feel like I expected something—or that you owed me. I didn’t want you to feel…obligated.”

The words hung in the air, vulnerable and trembling. She didn’t dare look away.

“Of course I am indebted to you. To the others. You have offered hospitality and all of you have shared your food, clothes. I have nothing to give in return.”

The urge to lean against his chest was almost painful. “It is not expected. Thankfully, we are all fortunate enough to maintain a good lifestyle.”

Gunther turned his gaze back toward the horizon, the sun casting a golden edge along his profile. “This isn’t gratitude speaking,” he said quietly. “It’s not because of what you’ve done for me. From the moment I first saw you, there’s been no one else in my mind, in my heart. But I’ve never felt deserving of someone like you; someone who cares. My past is flooded with mistakes…sins I can never undo.”

Aubrey laid a gentle hand on his arm, feeling the tension there. “You have to let it go,” she said softly. “You can’t live forever dragging your past behind you like a ball and chain. The way to make peace with it is to move forward, to do good now. To prove to yourself that you’re the man I already see.”

A soft breeze swept through the garden, sending strands of his long hair across his face. He brushed them aside with his left hand, eyes searching hers. “When you look at me…do you truly see a good man?”

She held his gaze steady, her heart broken at the uncertainly in his. “I do. I see a man who’s fought for others, who’s survived things most couldn’t. A man who’s still here, still trying. That takes more strength than most realize.”

His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Her heart cracked open at the vulnerable sound of his voice. She lifted her hand to his cheek and pressed a kiss to the edge of his jaw, soft and lingering.

“Can we be friends?” she asked, though even as the words left her lips, they tasted wrong, too small for what she felt.

Gunther’s hands came up to cradle her face, his eyes fierce and tender all at once. “I want to be more than that,” he said simply.

Then, with a quiet intensity that stole her breath, he asked, “May I kiss you?”

Aubrey could only nod, her voice lost to the moment. Relief and longing washed through her as he leaned in, his lips firm and seeking, claiming hers in a kiss that said everything they hadn’t dared to speak aloud. His tongue slid against hers, slow and sure, and the world seemed to fall away.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Aubrey let out a giddy laugh. “Gunther, I missed you so much.”

A slow smile curved his lips. “Not nearly as much as I missed you.”