on the frizz. It was kind of soothing, hanging my head down, the blow-dryer buzzing in my ear, but when I turned it off, I heard how quiet the room was.
“Gentry? Gentry?” No answer. I poked my head out into the room to check on him. He was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, with his hands on his knees, and his eyes closed. Meditating. Or praying. “Gentry?”
“My lady?” he said, but he didn’t open his eyes.
“You okay?”
“I am. I thank thee for asking. Art thou well?”
“I’m very clean anyway.” I didn’t know how I was feeling.
I went back to the bathroom sink to comb out my hair. I hadn’t combed it in weeks, and it made the frizz worse. Gentry came and stood next to me, watching me try to unfuck my hair. After a few minutes, I gave up and tossed the comb on the counter.
“What do you think?” I held my arms out, so he could see me in my full glory. Bare-ass naked, half freckled, half ghostly white, thighs thick as hell, that scorched bird trying to take flight off me, and a massive poofy triangle of orange hair.
“Methinks thou art Venus from the sea.”
“Maybe I am a water nymph instead of a phoenix,” I said. “I do like showers.”
“Mayhap thou art many things I have ne seen ne heard of.”
I laughed and he smiled. I liked to watch him look at me in the mirror. It used to bother me that he never looked me in the eye, but now I knew that was just how he was. He wasn’t shy or squirrelly, but he was getting whatever information he needed by looking at other parts of me. Even though he’d been all knightly goodness about not watching me swim, he wasn’t embarrassed about looking at me. Not touching, just looking. Maybe waiting for an invitation.
I reached for my hair band on the bathroom counter, but he put out his hand, so I gave it to him, wondering if he meant to help me put my hair up. Instead he slid it up his arm, like he was taking my favor before a joust.
“To see thy hair loose upon thy shoulders liketh me best.”
“I wanna say something nice about you, but . . .” But honestly, the nice things I wanted to say, most men wouldn’t take them as compliments. I liked that he was strong but not hard. I liked that if his hand was somewhere I didn’t want touched, I could move it. I could say Stop or Do it like this, and unlike every other man I’d ever fucked, Gentry didn’t get offended. “But your hair is seriously messed up. I like your prick.”
“Then I shall use it to lay siege at all the gates of thy keep,” he said.
“Oh my god. You are so fucking filthy.”
I only meant to tease him, because he made me laugh, but he stopped smiling and got a serious look on his face.
“I fear I am, my lady. I fear Hildegard be right that I polluted my oath to thee.”
“You haven’t polluted any oath to me. Or do you think the black knight was wrong?”
Gentry was still frowning, but when I held out my hand, he took it.
“Nay, my lady.”
“I don’t, either,” I said.
As for him laying siege to all the gates of my keep, we gave it a shot.
CHAPTER 39
Rhys
The first text message I got about the situation was from Edrard: Did you know Gentry was going to Missouri?
When?
He’s there now. They drove over on Wednesday.
They?
He and Lady Zoroaster, Edrard texted. Then: Ducking autocorrect. Then: Lady Zee.
Later, when Gentry started a three-way text with Edrard and me, it took me about twenty texts to catch up. They were talking about going to find Zee’s sister, who I guess was missing.
Like a search party? I said.
Kind of.
Nay, Gentry texted. Tis a negotiation for her return.
Come on. It’ll be fun. I’m taking my bow, Edrard said.
An armed negotiation? I said.
Lady Zhorzha needeth an escort for the negotiation. Tis better we should be an armed escort. Tho thine aid would be much valued, my brother, if the journey thee liketh not, I shall not press thee.
That was Gentry’s way of saying I was being a chickenshit, and for an hour I didn’t answer him.
On the other message thread, Edrard said, It’ll be cool. A little change of pace.
What does Rosalinda think?
She’s pouting about it. I think she’s jealous of Zee. Idk why.
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or