“Not really.” She put the flags and tokens away in a drawer under the table, and looked up at him expectantly. She wasn’t tired, either—not with him looking at her the way he was. “Feel like talking a while?” she asked hopefully, her muscles tensing a little with anticipation. Was she reading more into his words than was really there?

“If you don’t mind.” It wasn’t her imagination, there was an odd light in his eyes, an appreciative glint she’d been seeing quite a bit, lately. “Your room or mine?”

“Yours,” she said. “It’s cleaner.” She laughed, but the way he kept watching her was sending an oddly exciting chill up her spine. She stretched, and came close to giggling at the way his eyes widened. She blew out the rest of the lanterns, and headed for the door.

“Only marginally,” he replied—but instead of letting her precede him, he caught her hand in his as she walked past him.

She stopped for a moment, then gave his hand a squeeze. He returned it, and caressed her palm with his thumb as she tugged at his hand and got him moving out the door. She shielded her mind with studious care; right now she couldn’t afford any leakage....

She knew what was going on; she’d begun to hope he found her attractive several moons ago, and it was a distinct thrill to see him responding, though she truly wasn’t trying to flirt. Even if she hadn’t figured it out, Tarma had taken care to let her know a couple of days ago. “You’re young, attractive, and here.” she’d said bluntly. “He’s young, attractive, and not very sure of himself-though I doubt he’s a virgin. You’re a friend, so you aren’t threatening. If you want to go to bed with him, go right ahead. But make sure you’re protected. ”

She’d been relieved—but disappointed. “Is that all it is? Just—availability? ”

Tarma had shaken her head. “Child, even if it was love everlasting—which we both know it isn‘t—he’s a prince of the blood, and you’re going to be a common mercenary. He can’t afford to marry you, and you shouldn’t be content with anything less. Your potential is enormous, or that damned sword of Keth’s wouldn’t have spoken for you. You have no right to fritter your life away as Prince Daren’s mistress. You have things to do—so enjoy yourself now, but know that when it’s over, you’re going to go out and do them. ”

But with Daren’s hand holding hers possessively, and then Daren’s arm around her shoulders as they climbed the stairs together, it was difficult to keep Tarma’s advice in mind.