Chapter 4: The Morning After
The world narrowed to the rhythm of their shared breath, the solid warmth of him beneath her, the delicate points of pressure where his hands held her hips.Time dissolved into sensation. There was only the quiet, desperate sound of skin against skin, the rustle of rough wool and fine silk, the stifled gasp she bit into his shoulder.
Afterwards, they lay fused together, a single entity in the thin gray light.Sweat cooled on their skin. Eve’s curls were plastered to her temples, her body humming with a profound, exhausted peace. Adam’s face was buried in the curve of her neck, his breathing a deep, slow tide against her throat. He held her as if she might evaporate.A slow, sated smile touched her lips. She traced the line of a prominent stitch across his shoulder blade.“So,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Not a wiring error.”
A genuine laugh, breathy and surprised, shook his chest. He lifted his head to look at her. His dark eyes were soft, unguarded, the storm she’d grown accustomed to seeing there replaced by a calm so deep it felt sacred. He brushed a damp curl from her cheek.“A catastrophic system failure,” he murmured, and kissed her forehead. “Complete and irrevocable.”
They stayed like that until the light through the barred window shifted from gray to pale gold.The sounds of the waking castle became more distinct, more demanding. The scrape of a bucket across the courtyard below.The distant clatter of pots from the kitchen.
The knock, when it came, wasn’t timid. It was three sharp, authoritative raps of metal on wood.The sound was a physical shock, a cold plunge into a different reality.
Eve jerked in his arms.Her eyes flew wide, locking onto his. All the softness vanished from Adam’s face, replaced by an instant, terrifying alertness.His body went rigid beneath hers.
Sir Aldric’s voice, gravelly and devoid of courtesy, boomed through the thick oak. “Open.Guard’s business.”
Panic, cold and sharp, shot through Eve’s veins. She was a princess in a nightdress, in a guard’s bed. The consequences were a yawning chasm. She shook her head frantically, her fingers digging into Adam’s arms.Adam moved with a speed that belied his size. In one fluid motion, he rolled, placing himself between her and the door.He sat up, his back a wall of muscle. His eyes scanned the sparse room—the bed, the chair, the washbasin. There were no hiding places. Only the heavy, floor-length curtain of coarse linen hanging over the shallow alcove by the window, meant to blunt the draft.The knocking came again, more impatient. “I said open!”
Adam turned to her, his face a mask of fierce concentration. He put a finger to his lips—a gesture that was both command and plea. Then he lifted her from the bed as if she were made of lace. He didn’t set her down; he carried her the three steps to the alcove and pressed her into the narrow space behind the curtain, against the cold stone wall. He pulled the curtain across, shrouding her in dust-moted darkness. The rough fabric brushed her face.She heard his bare feet pad softly back across the room. The rustle of fabric as he presumably pulled on his trousers.The scrape of the bolt.
He opened the door only the width of his own body, blocking the entrance entirely.Eve held her breath. From her hiding place, she could see a sliver of the room through a gap in the weave. She saw Adam’s broad back, the tense set of his shoulders.
“Sir,” Adam’s voice rumbled, low and carefully neutral.It was the voice of a subordinate.It sounded alien coming from him.
“Step aside,” Aldric commanded.“Is there a problem?” Adam asked, without moving.
“That’s what I’m here to ascertain. A scullery maid swears she saw a… figure.On the upper battlements just before dawn. Near the royal apartments.” Aldric’s tone was sharp, probing.“I’m checking every post, every room. Now step aside.”
A beat of silence. Eve’s heart hammered against her ribs so loudly she was sure it would betray her. The figure on the battlements was him, coming back from her balcony.He’d been seen.
“Of course,” Adam said, his voice still that low, respectful rumble. He shifted, widening the door opening just enough, but not moving his body from the center of the frame.He was still blocking the view.“I have seen nothing. I was on my rest period after the night watch.”
She saw Aldric’s weathered face appear in the slice of the doorway, his eyes like flint as they scanned what little of the room he could see over and around Adam’s bulk. His gaze swept the empty bed, the rumpled blanket, the single chair. It lingered for a fraction of a second on the washbasin, where two cups sat instead of one.Eve’s breath caught. The second cup, from when he’d brought her water last night after the roof.
Aldric’s eyes flicked back to Adam’s face, the suspicion in them hardening into something colder. “You sleep in your boots?” he asked, nodding downward.Adam didn’t look down.“I find it quicker for response. A habit from the dark.”
The two men stared at each other, a silent war waged in the cramped space of the doorway.The air felt thick, charged. Aldric’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword.
“You are new here,” Aldric said slowly, each word a carefully placed stone.“Your loyalty is… untested.The Princess’s safety is paramount. You understand that whatever… unconventional… methods were used to create a soldier do not grant special privileges. Only duties.”
It was a calculated insult, a reminder of Adam’s place. Eve saw the muscles in Adam’s back coil, a ripple of pure tension. But his voice, when he spoke, remained flat, deferential. “I understand my duty, sir.”
Aldric’s eyes performed one last, sweeping scan of the visible room.They passed over the curtain.Stopped. Eve froze, her blood turning to ice.Could he see the outline of her feet?The slight bulge of the fabric?
After a lifetime, Aldric’s gaze moved on. He gave a curt, dissatisfied grunt.“Remain alert.Report anything. Anything at all.”
“Yes, sir.”
Aldric took a half-step back, his expression unreadable but far from convinced. “See that you do.” With a last, piercing look, he turned and strode down the corridor, his bootsteps echoing with finality.Adam stood perfectly still for a five-count after the footsteps faded. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed the door shut. The bolt slid home with a soft, solid thud.The sound unleashed the tension in Eve’s body. A shaky, almost hysterical laugh bubbled out of her. She pushed the curtain aside and stumbled out into the room, her legs feeling like wet parchment. She leaned against the cold wall, one hand pressed to her chest as if to hold her heart in place.Adam turned to face her. The careful mask was gone, replaced by a raw, stricken look. The fear he’d conquered earlier was back, mingled with a furious relief. He took a step toward her, then stopped, as if afraid to touch her now that the dan