Crooked Kingdom (The Six of Crows Duology #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,91

with me because of an oath, or because you think you need to protect me, or because you think you owe me some stupid blood debt.”

“Nina—” he started, then stopped. “Nina, I am with you because you let me be with you. There is no greater honor than to stand by your side.”

“Honor, duty. I get it.”

Her temper he could bear, but her disappointment was unacceptable. Matthias knew only the language of war. He did not have the words for this. “Meeting you was a disaster.”

She raised a brow. “Thank you.”

Djel, he was terrible at this. He stumbled on, trying to make her understand. “But I am grateful every day for that disaster. I needed a cataclysm to shake me from the life I knew. You were an earthquake, a landslide.”

“I,” she said, planting a hand on her hip, “am a delicate flower.”

“You aren’t a flower, you’re every blossom in the wood blooming at once. You are a tidal wave. You’re a stampede. You are overwhelming.”

“And what would you prefer?” she said, eyes blazing, the slightest quaver to her voice. “A proper Fjerdan girl who wears high collars and dunks herself in cold water whenever she has the urge to do something exciting?”

“That isn’t what I meant!”

She sidled closer to him. Again, his eyes strayed to the guards. Their backs were turned, but Matthias knew they must be listening, no matter what language he and Nina were speaking. “What are you so afraid of?” she challenged. “Don’t look at them, Matthias. Look at me.”

He looked. It was a struggle not to look. He loved seeing her in Fjerdan clothes, the little woolly vest, the full sweep of her skirts. Her green eyes were bright, her cheeks pink, her lips slightly parted. It was too easy to imagine himself kneeling like a penitent before her, letting his hands slide up the white curves of her calves, pushing those skirts higher, past her knees to the warm skin of her thighs. And the worst part was that he knew how good she would feel. Every cell in his body remembered the press of her naked body that first night in the whaling camp. “I … There is no one I want more; there is nothing I want more than to be overwhelmed by you.”

“But you don’t want to kiss me?”

He inhaled slowly, trying to bring order to his thoughts. This was all wrong.

“In Fjerda—” he began.

“We’re not in Fjerda.”

He needed to make her understand. “In Fjerda,” he persisted, “I would have asked your parents for permission to walk out with you.”

“I haven’t seen my parents since I was a child.”

“We would have been chaperoned. I would have dined with your family at least three times before we were ever left alone together.”

“We’re alone together now , Matthias.”

“I would have brought you gifts.”

Nina tipped her head to one side. “Go on.”

“Winter roses if I could afford them, a silver comb for your hair.”

“I don’t need those things.”

“Apple cakes with sweet cream.”

“I thought drüskelle didn’t eat sweets.”

“They’d all be for you,” he said.

“You have my attention.”

“Our first kiss would be in a sunlit wood or under a starry sky after a village dance, not in a tomb or some dank basement with guards at the door.”

“Let me get this straight,” Nina said. “You haven’t kissed me because the setting isn’t suitably romantic?”

“This isn’t about romance . A proper kiss, a proper courtship. There’s a way these things should be done.”

“For proper thieves?” The corners of her beautiful mouth curled and for a moment he was afraid she would laugh at him, but she simply shook her head and drew even nearer. Her body was the barest breath from his now. The need to close that scrap of distance was maddening.

“The first day you showed up at my house for this proper courtship, I would have cornered you in the pantry,” she said. “But please, tell me more about Fjerdan girls.”

“They speak quietly. They don’t engage in flirtations with every single man they meet.”

“I flirt with the women too.”

“I think you’d flirt with a date palm if it would pay you any attention.”

“If I flirted with a plant, you can bet it would stand up and take notice. Are you jealous?”

“All the time.”

“I’m glad. What are you looking at, Matthias?” The low thrum of her voice vibrated straight through him.

He kept his eyes on the ceiling, whispering softly. “Nothing.”

“Matthias, are you praying?”

“Possibly.”

“For restraint?” she said sweetly.

“You really are a witch.”

“I’m not proper, Matthias.”

“I am aware