Daughter of Dusk

He met her eyes with gratitude. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I shouldn’t have hidden it from you.”


Kyra looked to the window. She needed to go. There were preparations to make if she was going to attempt her new plan. But her conversation with Tristam didn’t seem quite complete. She swallowed. “Do what you think is best, Tristam. Whatever you decide, I’ll still be your friend and comrade-in—”

She didn’t get to finish the last few words, because he closed the distance between them, threaded his arms behind her back, and kissed her.

Kyra drew half a breath in surprise before his lips met hers and her mind went blank. They had kissed once before. That had been a stolen moment, shy and uncertain. This time, it was also a stolen moment, but it was far different. There was an urgency in the way he pulled her close, an insistence in the way his lips sought hers, as if they might never do this again. Kyra understood it, because she felt the same. She returned his kiss with equal fervor, her world shrinking down to just the two of them, his hands in her hair and hers tightly clutching his waist. His tongue parted her lips, and she gasped as a shiver danced down her spine and her knees went weak. She could lose herself like this, forget about betrothals and marriage negotiations, forget about what she was going to do right after she climbed out the window.

But, of course, she couldn’t. Even as she reached up to cup his face, even as she wished she could pull him even closer, she knew this. They weren’t some lovers from a talesinger’s ballad, about to run off into each other’s arms. The next morning, Tristam would continue his negotiations with the family from Parna, and Kyra would go back into hiding. That is, if Kyra survived the night.

Perhaps Tristam sensed the direction of her thoughts, because he pulled back. He looked as if he wasn’t quite sure what had happened. And neither was she, for that matter. Kyra’s heart still pounded in her chest, and she was sure her face was just as flushed as his. She couldn’t look away from his eyes. Tristam was watching her as if convinced she was about to disappear.

And Kyra supposed she was. She gathered her resolve before it could weaken any further and pushed him away.

“I can’t,” she said quietly. “And neither can you.”

He accepted her words without argument, closing his eyes in resignation. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. The marriage negotiations? The kiss? She wasn’t sure if it mattered, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “I really should go,” said Kyra.

He watched her silently as she pushed open the shutters and climbed back out. When Kyra peered back in from the ledge, he’d sunk down into a chair, his forehead resting on his hand. His eyes were open, but his gaze was focused on something Kyra couldn’t see.





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