Lysa had been hurt because of Ava, because she had wanted so desperately to have fun. Ava miserably turned her eyes away from Lysa and Rowan. She looked up at Liadan, hoping for comfort, and her heart skipped a beat to see the anger in the knight’s eyes.

  Liadan sheathed her glowing sword, and the magick fire left her eyes and her blade, but she looked no less terrifying. She stood there, completely still, gazing down at Ava.

  “L-Liadan . . .” Ava whispered uncertainly when Liadan continued glaring down at her.

  Without a word, Liadan turned and marched away up the stairs.

  AS THE DAYS WENT BY and the blizzard raged on, Liadan continued in silence, rarely speaking to Ava, let alone touching her or kissing her. Ava soon realized they were having their first fight, and not knowing what to do, she went to Ethne for advice.

  Like Rowan, Ethne loved gambling at cards. She could often be found playing cards down in the tavern or sometimes in a room with the other guests. That evening, after glancing over the downstairs tavern from the landing above and failing to spot the familiar dark brown hair and silver armor, Ava eventually found Ethne in one of the inn rooms, playing cards with Rowan. After eavesdropping outside for a moment, she realized the two were practicing hand signals so that they could cheat during card games. Holding back a laugh, Ava smiled and entered.

  “Your highness! What a pleasant surprise!” said Rowan jovially.

  Ava paused in the doorway and went pink: Ethne and Rowan were seated at a small table under the window, and lying over on the large bed was a completely naked young woman. Ava recognized her as one of the serving wenches from the tavern. She was small, pretty, and blonde, with shapely legs and a plump backside. She was sleeping on her belly with her cheek on her arm as evening sunlight streamed weakly through the snowfall beyond the window and over her pale skin. Her blonde hair was in her face as she dozed peacefully.

  Both knights were in their underarmor and their hair was loose and tousled, as if they had recently made love to the girl. A fire was roaring on the hearth, filling the room with warmth as Ethne and Rowan continued fussing over their card game, bickering back and forth as if the woman on the great bed wasn’t even there. Ava pulled up a chair and sat with them at the small table, watching their game.

  “What tidings do you bring?” Ethne asked, staring at the spread of cards before her. There were pints of ale on the table and she grabbed the nearest one and took a gulp. “Did Lysa send you to scold me for cheating at cards?”

  “Or for fucking the tavern wenches?” suggested Rowan without looking up.

  “No,” said Ava with a laugh. She hesitated sadly. “It’s about Liadan.”

  “Ah,” said Ethne. “I expected we would have this conversation sooner or later. Liadan is angry with you, and you don’t understand why, featherhead that you are.”

  “I understand why!” said Ava crossly. “She warned me about the men in the tavern, and I did not heed, and because of that, I was nearly hurt—”

  “Aye,” said Ethne darkly, “and it isn’t the first time you haven’t heeded us. Back on the road, you did stray into the wood, though I warned you not to, and were nearly accosted then as well—”

  “Truly? By the gods,” said Rowan in amusement. “How many times hath you put yourself in danger, Ava? Shall I have to beat the men off with my hammer?”

  “Most likely,” said Ethne with a snort.

  Ava frowned irritably. “I didn’t come here to be scolded.”

  “Though perhaps you should be,” said Ethne, laying down a card.

  “No, no, use the trick the card, the double,” Rowan complained, brushing the card away. She pulled another card from her sleeve and passed it to Ethne. It was a complete copy of the one Ethne had used, though there was a small mark on its corner.

  “Why did you come, then?” said Ethne irritably to Ava. She finally lifted her slanted gray eyes from the card game and looked at Ava. She waited, and Ava resisted the urge to squirm under the knight’s intent and disapproving gaze.

  “I just want Liadan to talk to me!” Ava confessed. “How are we to move past this if she shall not speak?”

  Ethne smiled. “So you don’t really understand why she is angry, as I thought.” She looked away and returned her attention to the practice card game. She and Rowan leaned forward, staring critically at the card spread.

  Ava folded her arms, feeling more irritable by the minute. “Then why don’t you tell me?” she said as calmly and graciously as she could. She knew Ethne was deliberately holding back, taking her time for her own amusement, and had to resist the urge to let her anger fully show. Doing so would only amuse Ethne all the more. She supposed it was her punishment for angering Liadan.

  “But isn’t it obvious?” said Ethne with an incredulous laugh. “You don’t respect Liadan! It is her job as your knight to protect you, and she hath gone to great lengths to do so, even giving up her life and reputation and fleeing with you in exile! And instead of honoring that by keeping yourself safe, you hath repeatedly put yourself in danger, risking everything she hath fought for – namely your freedom.”

  Ava stared glumly at the table. Perhaps she hadn’t fully understood Liadan’s anger after all. She felt like a silly, self-centered child. Perhaps that’s exactly what she was.

  “You know,” said Rowan, not looking up from the practice card game, “this matter could be remedied if the princess learned to wield a blade.”

  Ethne snorted. “Don’t be absurd.”

  Ava scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Ethne glanced over and laughed to see Ava blushing with anger. “Don’t be angry, your highness, but to gain real skill would take months, if not years, of dedicated training. We simply don’t have that sort of time nor the proper equipment to bother with—”

  “Sure, we do,” said Rowan without looking up from the card spread. She reached out, hesitated, and thoughtfully moved a card. “I’ve been training Lysa since—”

  Ethne’s head snapped up. “You’ve been what?”

  Rowan finally looked up and laughed at Ethne’s anger. “Saoirse and I have been training Lysa to wield a blade,” she said, unabashed when Ethne scowled. She shrugged. “The wee lass begged to learn, and there was nothing else to do, trapped as we are in this limbo. So Saoirse lent Lysa her blade, and we have been teaching her. I wanted to buy her a blade of her own from the smithy ‘round the way, but Saoirse didn’t think she was ready—”

  “Of course, she isn’t!” Ethne growled, incredulous. “Lysa is a peasant! A handmaiden! Not a knight! She hath spent her life emptying chamber pots. She knows nothing of battle! It’s probably because of your foolish encouragement that she tried fighting that man and was harmed!”

  Rowan’s mouth twisted irritably. “What should she have done? Sat there and allowed a man to grope Ava? She tried to protect Ava, and she was quite brave for it. I applaud her.”

  “Brave and foolish,” said Ethne at once. “You shall cease your ‘training,’ and I shant hear a word more on it.”

  Rowan laughed dryly. “I have a feeling Lysa won’t take kindly to being told what to do, Ethne. Especially not by the likes of you.”

  “At least she’ll be alive,” Ethne said flatly and returned her attention to the practice game on the table.

  Rowan sat back now, legs spread, regarding Ethne and shaking her head. “Why should it frighten you so that Lysa reaches more and more for her independence? Do you think you shall always be there to protect her? I can guarantee you will not.”

  Ethne sneered. “If Lysa is harmed, I shall hold you accountable, and that very day I shall draw your blood in payment.”

  Ava had the feeling Ethne was completely serious about physically harming Rowan. While Ethne and Rowan enjoyed scheming together at cards and were indeed good friends, even like sisters, mostly they seemed more like enemies than anything else. Ava had to suppose it was what it was like to have a sibling rivalry, yet one more reason she was glad to be an only child.

  “You’re being ridiculous as usual,” said Rowan dismissively. The Black Lioness picked up a pair of dice with runes on them and tossed them down on the table again, as if testing how they should fall. Ava watched and realized – after the dice fell on the same rune three times – that they were loaded dice.

  “I shall continue to train Lysa if it pleases her,” Rowan declared. She jerked her head at Ava. “And I shall train this one as well, if she should wish it.”

  “I do not wish to be trained, Rowan. I only wish for Liadan to speak to me again,” said Ava unhappily. “I wish for her to look upon me with love, as she did before, and without such blazing anger.” Her green eyes moved to Ethne. “And Ethne, you would rant at me about respect, but you do not respect Lysa!”

  “Horse shite,” said Ethne at once, looking around in amazement.

  “You don’t,” Ava repeated. “She isn’t a person to you. She’s a pretty thing to protect. You treat her like a child. And you lie to her! Look at you in here,” she waved at the bed, where the young woman slept on, obvious to their bickering, “bedding tavern wenches as if it were nothing!”

  Ethne tensed. “I love Lysa!” she hurled, her gray eyes flying wide. Suddenly breathless, she turned back to the card game and muttered, “I love her. You wouldn’t understand. You and Liadan were swept away the moment you met each other. Liadan did not have to get on her knees and beg for your affection! I had to make Lysa give a damn, and even then, she didn’t hesitate to bed Liadan while I was off in a jailcell about to be executed!”

  “So all of this is because you’re angry with her,” said Ava, waving a hand yet again at the naked young woman sleeping on the bed.

  “Perhaps,” said Ethne shortly, not looking up from the card spread. “I cannot force Lysa to care for me, and I am done trying, I think. Let her whore around if it pleases her. And I shall do the same.” She grabbed her tankard again and tossed it back for another chug.

  “But she does care for you,” Ava insisted. “She wouldn’t shut up about rescuing you from Eoldbed’s Cross. Half the reason Liadan bedded her was to calm her down.” She laughed weakly, remembering.

  “Please, Ava. Cease making excuses for her and speak true. Lysa bedded Liadan because her pleasure was more important than my life,” said Ethne scathingly and didn’t look up from the card game. Opposite her, Rowan looked awkward and uncomfortable.

  Ava guiltily wrung her hands. Her words had struck a nerve. She hadn’t meant to upset Ethne, but then again, she hadn’t expected Ethne to care.

  “Say what you want of me,” Ethne said darkly, “and then leave us. We have things to do.”

  Ava was stung by Ethne’s curt command, but she answered regardless, “I want Liadan to talk to me. You understand the Wildoras culture. What do I have to say? What do I have to do?”

  “Say nothing,” answered Ethne, not looking up. “The women of Wildoras do not speak when they are angry for fear of speaking words they shall regret. It is how they treat their wives, anyway. If you are truly sorry, then you will get on your knees and make it known. And then you shall not repeat the behavior.”

  “And make it known?” repeated Ava, perplexed. Her large green eyes blinked.

  Rowan snorted with laughter, and her hazel eyes crinkled up with mirth when she glanced up at Ava. “You truly are an innocent, pure little doe. I see we shall have to spell it out for you: get on your knees and suck Liadan’s pussy until she comes.”

  Ava blushed to her hairline. Ethne and Rowan laughed and returned to their card game.

  AFTER LEAVING ETHNE and Rowan to laugh at her naivety, Ava returned to room she shared with the group to find the others asleep there. Saoirse was sleeping on her bedroll on the floor once again, the better to be near the fire, and – to Ava’s surprise—little Lysa was in Saoirse’s bedroll with her. The Knight of the Lion was in nothing but her underarmor, and the bulge of her muscular arm could be seen as it folded protectively over Lysa, holding the smaller woman close to her chest. One of her strong hands closed over Lysa’s breast and squeezed hard as she slept. Lysa blushed and squirmed in the knight’s grasp, delighted by the groping and moaning in her sleep.

  Ava stood there staring in surprise, her pink lips parted. Were Saoirse and Rowan doing more than merely “training” Lysa? But thoughts of the three having sex left her mind when she heard a moan. Ava looked around and noticed Liadan at last. The Knight of the Wild was sitting in a chair at the small table under the window, and she was in nothing but her soft underarmor. She was so large and muscular, sitting there with her legs spread, that she made the wooden chair beneath her look comically small. Her red hair was wild and loose around her shoulders, still half-plaited and dancing with curls, and Ava looked upon on her as she slept, thinking she was utterly beautiful.

  Ava was not surprised to have found Liadan slumbering in a chair: since their silent argument had begun, Liadan had avoided sleeping in the bed. It was as if she no longer wished to sleep near Ava, so deeply hurt and angry was she.

  The guilt stinging her chest, Ava moved quietly across the room and knelt down between Liadan’s hard thighs. Liadan snorted in her sleep but otherwise didn’t stir. Ava smiled and reached for the bottom half of Liadan’s underarmor. She managed to loosen the hose with the side laces, and as she tugged it down, the inevitable happened: Liadan’s blue eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at Ava in surprise.

  Ava froze, heart beating fast, half-expecting that Liadan would grow angry and push her away. But Liadan remained completely still, and there was no anger in her eyes, only softness . . . and sadness. Ava wanted to apologize, but remembering that Ethne had told her that she should “say nothing,” Ava dropped her eyes instead and continued tugging down Liadan’s hose, until she had pulled away the knight’s smallclothes, revealing the curly nest of red hair between Liadan’s thighs.

  Ava paused, thinking Liadan’s sex was pretty to look at: soft pink lips swathed in curly red hair . . . and a fat clitoris peeping from the hair at the crown of the lips.

  Kneeling there and gazing with longing at Liadan’s sex, Ava realized she had only ever pleased the knight once before, that Liadan had mostly pleased her, and that she didn’t really know how to please a woman. She suddenly felt nervous, and butterflies rose in her stomach.

  As if to comfort Ava, Liadan’s strong hand cupped her cheek, and the Knight of the Wild stared down at her with soft eyes. There it was, Ava thought. There was the soft, loving gaze she had missed so desperately over the last few days. Her nervousness left her, and she leaned forward between Liadan’s thighs and sucked long and slow on the lips of her sex.

  Ava immediately felt her clitoris pumping. It felt good to suck on Liadan’s sex. Liadan tasted salty with faint sweat, and yet, her fluids were sweet, and the brush of her soft red hair pleasant. Ava nuzzled her nose in the hair, happily inhaling the strong, musky scent, and plunging her eager tongue between the lips of Liadan’s sex. She was proud of herself when Liadan’s strong thighs tensed, when Liadan moaned softly in her arousal. When she glanced up, Liadan was looking down at her, her brows pinched and suffering, her cheeks slightly pink.

  Holding back a smile, Ava closed her eyes and continued, and she felt herself growing moist as she did. Liadan’s hot sex crushed against her mouth as she slid her tongue in – gently, slowly. She took her time, as if she were eating something delicious and sweet, and hell, . . . she was.

  Ava hesitated and sucked on Liadan’s clitoris next, and the knight’s hard thighs tensed around her again. She thought Liadan reached up as if to stop her, but the knight’s hand fell away again and clenched the chair instead, as if to control herself.

  Feeling she had hit Liadan’s spot, Ava took this as a sign that she should keep going. She closed her eyes and sucked slowly on Liadan’s clitoris. She heard Liadan’s helpless moan, and when she opened her eyes again, the knight’s belly was tightening against trembles and Liadan was biting her lip, as if to silence herself. Ava was pleased, realizing she was better at this than she had assumed.

  Liadan gently cupped the back of Ava’s hair, silently encouraging her, and Ava focused on Liadan’s clitoris completely now, sucking slowly but with passion.

  Liadan couldn’t contain her deep cries of pleasure, and as she brought the knight to a climax, Ava gazed up at her from between her thighs with a hard, determined stare. Liadan stared back fondly, her thighs tensed again, and she released, her moisture rushing warm against Ava’s mouth. Ava nuzzled her nose into the red hair, inhaling its scent, tasting as much of the sudden moisture as she could, and in the silence that followed, Liadan slouched forward in the chair and panted.

  “I suppose . . . I could forgive . . . anything . . . after that,” gasped Liadan.

  Ava smiled, and her heart fluttered when Liadan smiled back.

  Liadan reached down, easily lifted Ava into her lap, and held her, and Ava happily nuzzled her golden hair under Liadan’s chin.

  “I thought you would never speak to me again,” Ava said in relief.

  “Perhaps I wouldn’t have,” Liadan admitted with a breathless laugh. “I gave up everything for you, and it seems you would squander it again and again.”

  “I don’t mean to,” said Ava apologetically. “It’s just . . . I’ve spent my whole life locked away, and now I have all this freedom, and it’s so tempting to just . . . dive in!”

  Liadan smiled sadly as she held Ava close. “I keep forgetting how shut away you were. I suppose I’d be a little rebellious as well. How about this: we shall go out together for a night of fun—”

  “Really, Liadan?” Ava cried in happy ecstasy.

  “Yes,” Liadan answered. “And you may drink and dance as you please. Though I suppose it doesn’t matter now if you wander the tavern alone, does it? All the men have left, as it should be. This was always a woman’s place of pleasure and not meant for their prying eyes.”

 

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