She slid a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

“It makes me feel alive,” she murmured, and kissed him.

Amazingly, her breath was still sweet, although he was sure his was sour. A great deal more came clear about what had passed between them last night, indeed it did, and he wrapped his arms around her and settled her closer.

A hard rapping, tat tat tat tat tat, sounded on the outer doors.

“The hells!” he swore.

She cocked her head to one side to listen, then grinned and stretched. “Take your pleasure while you can, Marshal, for they will be clamoring for you as soon as you blink.”

Didn’t anything ruffle her feathers? Neh, surely not. She had more courage than he’d ever know. She’d faced the creature that tried to kill her, and won its trust.

She began to gather the clothing tossed here and there about the tiny sleeping chamber. He stood and caught her lightly by the wrist. She looked at him, studying his face.

“Listen, Verena,” he said. “I thank you for what you offered me. I’m glad for it. But I’m marshal now, and I have to think whether it’s best for the hall that I share such a relationship with a fawkner who works under my authority. I just don’t know. It all came on me so suddenly. I’m not sure how to negotiate these currents, much less rebuild the hall after Marshal Yordenas tried his best to destroy it.”

“You’re honest. I appreciate that.”

“I’m not saying that—”

“Joss. I’m looking for a pleasant way to pass the evening now and again, that’s all. I think you’re pretty well accustomed to women’s admiration, so you have to believe me—even if it’s difficult for you to do so—that I’m not looking for more than that. Nor will I sit around pining for you. And maybe this isn’t such a good idea. We have enough complications as it is. It’s true enough that Argent Hall needs us all to work hard and together if we mean to restore it to what it ought to be. We have forty eagles or more come home to the hall looking for new reeves, and a raft of hopeful candidates knocking at the gates—”

The pounding resumed, a thapping that made his head hammer right between the eyes.

She grinned. “I would have thought you held your wine better than this. Go on.” She handed him the vest she’d unlaced last night, then tugged on her own pair of leather trousers.

“Marshal Joss?”

“I’m coming!”

He dressed, then tossed the coverlet back on the sleeping mat and decided to roll it up and store it away later. Verena picked up the empty pitcher and the pair of tumblers, slid the door open with a foot, and marched across the outer chamber of the marshal’s cote to the outer door. Joss, trying to smear the muzziness out of his eyes, stepped into the outer chamber and slid the inner door shut just as she slid open the outer door. A pair of reeves and a fawkner in a linen coat stood on the covered porch.