"Yet." Dom repeated. "Kel, let's talk about "yet."" His arm reached out and his hand cradled her cheek. His chapped, soldier's palm was surprisingly warm and gentle against her skin. Kel shivered but couldn't bring herself to pull away.
"Dom…I…" Kel's mind was gone and she scrabbled to find even the smallest piece of her wits. Finding none, she stared into his eyes, looking for some hint as to what was to happen next. It was too dark to determine much, but she knew his face so well by now she could guess his expression. "Domitan of Masbolle, I am not like your previous lady friends." She had found her honor first, it seemed.
He chuckled. "No, you are not." He agreed dryly. "And that's one of the things I find so very thrilling about you." His thumb ran smoothly down her jaw. "You are unlike any woman I have ever met. Over the past few years, you've become my conscience—did you know that? When I wonder what's the best thing, the right thing, I find myself thinking, what would Kel do? I will admit, I've…'met' a few women in my day, and let me tell you, none compare. None would I trust with my men, my secrets, my dirtiest jokes or my little quirks. Just you." His thumb paused. "I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted from me." He pulled his hand away. "I just thought you should know…you deserve all those things we talked about in the field today—every one. And, I know at least one such man who already feels that way about you."
Kel felt a sharp pain in her chest. She ached to take him into her arms right then and there, to prove she felt the same way. Part of her refused to believe he meant those things in earnest. Surely, he was merely trying to make her feel better about Pavel and her marital problems. It was what a friend would do. Part of her, that small, nagging, Neal-esque spark of her personality that she kept so mercilessly buried, rose up and demanded action.
"Dom, come here." She commanded. He was only a few feet away, and when he came inches closer, she wrapped her knightly arms around his torso and drew him close. Her chin rested just so on his shoulder, the warmth of his body met hers, and Kel sank into a sensation of complete and utter comfort. 'Oh. I wish I'd had the courage to try THIS years ago.' She thought luxuriously. She nuzzled deeper into his shoulder and couldn't contain her sigh. Kel was surprised when his breathing matched hers.
"Thank you." She murmured. Her words slurred against the fabric of his tunic. Nevertheless, he responded with a small nod of his head and his hand returned to her face. His free arm rested around her waist, keeping her close.
They stood that way for moments on end, neither one willing to break the precious new bond. It was far better than dancing. Kel wanted badly to close her eyes and continue this dream-like state, but her better sense warned they would soon need to return to the dance hall.
"They'll be looking for us soon." Kel couldn't hide the undercurrent of resignation in her tone.
Dom's nose rubbed gently against her forehead. "Mhmm. If you were anyone else, I'd suggest we make them wait. But, you have a grandmother dragoness in there, waiting to make sure you find an appropriate suitor before the end of these celebrations."
Confusion hit Kel like a tidal wave. The way Dom spoke, it seemed as though he did not intend to be that man. Cold ran down her spine and made her back straighten. She coughed. "You're right." She said crisply. "I should be husband hunting right now, not wasting my time with a man who can't and won't marry." Her voice was harsher than she'd intended. She felt a twinge of guilt as Dom tensed. He never promised marriage, he'd simply offered a few kind words, and now she expected a proposal? Perhaps the winds of the North had finally whisked away the meat between her ears.
"Keladry?" Someone called from the doorway. "Are you out here?" Pavel's plaintive accent grated against the emotions she was struggling to contain. Mithros and Goddess, she was outside in the dark, alone save for the company of a bachelor. Her first thought was to push Dom into the bushes and head back alone. Before she could give him a shove, Pavel caught sight of the pair. The light from the doorway cast a sufficient glow over the scene. Kel's arm was extended out, frozen like a deer in a hunter's eyeshot, she looked directly at Pavel, her face tight with barely contained anger. If she could see Dom at that moment, she would've noted a fair amount of misery and remorse in his expression.
"WHAT is the meaning of this?!" Pavel demanded. "Has this roguish gentleman offered you insult, lady? Allow me to defend you!" He took off his glove and waved it threateningly.
Kel intercepted his arm and explained calmly, "Dom has done nothing wrong. There was a misunderstanding on my part."
"Don't defend him!" Pavel cried. "Clearly he offered his distasteful, perverted—
"He offered no such thing." Kel repeated, with forced reserve. "Are you doubting my word?"
Pavel grumbled something incoherently, still struggling to break free of Kel's grip. "He must be punished for his offense!" He finally managed.
"For the third time, milord: he made no offense. You, on the other hand, have twice ignored my word. You may meet me tomorrow in the courtyard, where we will settle this by arms of your choice. If you wish to place coin on the duel, I will match it." Kel secretly hoped she COULD match his coin.
The older man shrank as he realized his predicament. "Keladry, I only meant—
"ENOUGH." She said coldly. "Tomorrow morning at sunrise. Good evening to you both!" She tried to control her gait as she strode away. In order to escape to her rooms, she first had to pass through a crowd of socially drunk nobles, all wearing smiles and completely oblivious to her turmoil. Her eyes met briefly with her mother's, and it was all Kel could do to keep her mask in place.
She slammed the door to her quarters tightly shut, and sank down into the bed, not caring what effects her action would have on her wonderful dress. 'Silly girl.' Her mind chastised. 'You've blown your chances with the one, and you never had any with the other. Grandmama will not be pleased.'
"Grandmama can go live with stormwings, for all I care." Kel said spitefully.
"I sometimes find myself wishing she would." Ilene had opened the door, and she stood inside the room, regarding her daughter. "What happened?"
Kel sat up slowly, unable to hide her blush. "I challenged Pavel of Pearlmouth to a duel tomorrow morning, because he seemed to think Dom had "offered me offense" when I iterated he had done no such thing. He first attacked my honor by assuming I could be manipulated into a compromising situation, and then refused to accept my word when I explained the situation was otherwise."
Ilene nodded with her usual grace. "What did occur between you and Masbolle in the courtyard?"
"I don't know." Kel responded frankly. "He said a lot of wonderful things, words I have been waiting to hear for longer than I care to admit…and yet, I doubt he's the sort who's willing to give up his post to marry me. I don't know if I even want to marry him." Kel shrugged, and her shoulders sank low. "I made a mistake when I brought him here." She admitted. "I wanted to keep grandmother away, maybe give her some glimmer of hope, but instead, I've pushed myself further into the category of future old maid."
Her mother crossed the room and sat down on the bed. "Kel…we're not going to force you to get married, no matter what your grandmother wishes to believe. We're proud of what you are, and I thought you knew that." She regarded her daughter sternly. "What makes you think we've changed?"
"Nothing. I know you accept me. But I am tired of being this family's black sheep. I thought that, perhaps for once, I might be able to do something that you could be proud of without having to fight off the conservatives for my sake." The bitterness in Kel's voice was faint, but present.
Ilene kissed Kel's forehead, where Dom's nose had rested only a few minutes ago. Kel forcefully repressed that memory. "Relax. Get some sleep. Go to your duel tomorrow. We will always be proud of you, whether you end up as an old maid or a mother of twenty. As to Domitan, trust your instincts. Decide what you want from him, if anything. Determine whether he is willing to wanting to give those same things. That's what romance is, outside of all those silly songs and plays. Be honest; be willing to risk getting hurt. Maybe you're right, and he won't be what you need. However, you'll never know until you ask. Love takes courage, my dear. I can't think of someone more capable for the task." She patted Kel on the shoulder and rose to leave.
"And, as long as I'm being frank, I hope you kick Pavel's arse tomorrow. He deserves it."