in silence, avoiding one another’s gaze. Before the strain between them could become unbearable, a familiar redheaded servant appeared at their side.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Damaris turned to Tobias. “Artist, you’ve been summoned.”
“Summoned?”
“Yes. Your presence is required at once.”
A sinking feeling took root in his gut. “You’re certain it’s me?”
“It seemed of significant importance.”
Reluctantly, Tobias stood and followed her through the palace, trying to memorize the path they traveled. Eventually they stopped at a large chamber with dark walls, darker furnishings, and not a single weapon in sight. That’s promising.
“You’re to wait here,” Damaris said.
She promptly scuttled from the room, leaving Tobias to his own devices. Anxiously, he eyed the space around him, the couches lined in rose silks, the shelves boasting sealed scrolls. A study? A large black desk sat off to the side covered in parchment pages and ink-tipped reeds. Definitely a study. His worries lifted, but only slightly. Am I to be murdered in a study?
Two small, warm hands covered his eyes, and he grinned. “Leila.”
“Actually it’s Flynn,” she said. “I’ve been mad for you since the moment we met, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
He laughed. “You scared me half to death, you know. I thought I was about to get my stones chopped off, or something else equally vile.”
“Is there anything equally vile to having your stones chopped off?”
“Oh hell, I don’t know. Why are you covering my eyes?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
His smile widened. “Is that right?”
“You have to close your eyes.”
“What for? You’re covering them.”
“It’s a dual precaution.”
He chuckled. “This must be some surprise.”
“Are your eyes closed?”
“Of course, Leila. I’m at your service.”
“All right. Get to walking.”
“Walking?” he scoffed. “But I can’t see.”
“I’ll steer you.” She gave him a light kick in the calf. “Move.”
Tobias staggered through the darkness, not at all sure where he was going. Leila’s warm palms remained planted on his face, her touch a tease, as it was all he could do to keep from turning around and scooping her in his arms. Heat swirled through his body, fading into crisp coolness—an evening breeze—and after stumbling down a handful of stairs, grass crunched underfoot.
“All right.” Leila dropped her hands. “Open your eyes.”
Color filled his vision. Flowers of all kinds stretched ahead, some in mosaicked pots, others blooming from manicured bushes or hanging in spirals from trees. Daffodils, birds of paradise, more he couldn’t name; they were everywhere, row after row of vital beauty, easily the most lavish garden he had ever seen.
Leila glided into his line of sight, draped in a peach dress that brought out the pink in her cheeks, and the awe of the garden was suddenly lost on him. “What do you think?” she said. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She wove around a series of hydrangea bushes. “This”—she dragged her fingertips over the periwinkle petals—“is my favorite place in the fortress.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Every day. Do you like it?”
“I do.”
A breeze floated past, the cool air comforting—until it wasn’t. We’re out in the open. He glanced around anxiously.
“No one can see us,” Leila said. “We’re alone.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve been naked out here before.”
“Naked?”
She flashed a coy smile. “Completely.”
Tobias hesitated, eyeing her up and down. “Lies. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Leila laughed, swatting his arm before heading off through the garden. Stopping in the center of a small clearing, she unstrapped the blade from her thigh and tossed it aside before flopping down onto the grass.
“What are you doing?” Tobias asked.
She folded her hands on her stomach. “This is my spot.”
“Well then, where’s my spot?”
“I don’t know. Pick one.”
Tobias plopped down beside her.
“A wise decision,” she said.
The two stared up at the black sky in silence, the grass tickling their skin. It wasn’t long before the pinprick stars lost Tobias’s interest, and he curled up alongside Leila, threading his arm around her waist and nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck.
“You’re encroaching on my spot,” she scoffed.
“My spot is with you.”
Leila nestled against him. Her hand crawled up the front of his shirt, rising and falling with his breathing, and he allowed his worries to drift away.
“What are you thinking about?” she whispered.
“I’m imagining you lying out here. Naked.”
She swatted him on the arm, and he shot her a phony glare. “What?”
“You dog.” She giggled.
“I’m an honest man. Don’t deprive me of my imagination.”
She smacked him again.
“Leila!”
“Stop that.”
“This is the single most glorious vision I’ve had since the start of this tournament. You’d deny me that?” He