FOREVER KNIGHTS: #13 Salvaging Souls
Who'd Believe Me?

Her fine brow arched. She brought another mouthful to her lips absentmindedly. “You’re a strange combination of danger and charm. You look imposing but show kindness. You talk about your faults, but I see only fine qualities. I struggle to decide what you are.”

I suppose I am all of that.

“I see nothing about you that isn’t fine.” Chavias’ hand dropped to the table.

She gave him a long look.

“You desire to ask me more about my journal.” It was no question.

“I read how you were taken prisoner by Radix. You’re a fool to think you sacrificed your morals! Can’t you see how much you help the knights by infiltrating Radix’s lair and undermining him at every turn? You’re no more his minion then his rats may fly!” She expostulated. Before looking somewhat ashamed at her outburst.

“You don’t fear what could happen calling the Master of the House a fool? You could have found more kindly words.” He suggested.

Though I rather like the impassioned ones you picked.

“Or chosen not to speak atall.” She chewed her cheek.

Not how I’d have it. His chair creaked as he leaned back in it.

“You’re angry about how I view myself?” He leaned back and crossed thick arms over his abdomen. Unconsciously protective since it was what Okine was currently shredding with dull knives.

“No. I’m irate your view of yourself is so low.”

He was strangely touched at her sincerity. “You disagree with how I’ve written my history?”

She nodded. “You’re trapped in an unbearable situation. You think you’re brethren have forsaken you, yet you continue to fight for them. How dare they resent you for it! You’ve been tortured trying to protect your-your…What’s his name?” She huffed.

“Sebastian.”

“Yes. Him. That’s above honor.” She said solemnly. Sliding her hand over the table as she leaned back to mimic his posturing.

He was sure his expression was equally as stunned as he felt. “Honor?”

“Are-are you angry with me for saying it?” She chewed her lip.

Not in the least. It’s a nice perception of me.

“A beautiful woman who speaks her passions?” He leaned forward to drop his chin in a fist. “Oh, no. I just wonder what’ll come out of that pretty mouth next?”

I’m dying of suspense, actually.

“Don’t say silly things to flatter me.” She eyed him.

I don’t.

“Oh, I mean them. No flattery.”

“Why so liberal with your compliments?”

“Because I fear you’ve gotten nowhere near the number you warrant.” He said.

I’d shower you in them.

“Are you annoyed I read your journal?” She blurted.

“I left it with you after I knew, did I not?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t say I was pleased you found it.” He admitted. Instantly regretting the words when she looked forlorn. Shoulders slumping. “But a man leaving a woman with a sharp mind alone for hours at a time, best expect she’ll find some trouble.”

She was chewing that cheek.

“Have you not cleaned my chamber with your own hands? What nerve I’d have to chastise you for finding something to interest yourself.” He sighed thoughtfully. “In truth I suppose I’m flattered you find my life so riveting.”

“It’s you I find riveting. Not your tale.”

“That so?” He lifted a thick black brow.

“You say nothing of my need to argue your viewpoints.” She wriggled under the intensity of his study.

“Why wouldn’t I welcome some argument which would allow me to feel better about myself?” His brow furrowed. “That seems a highly foolish thing to do.”

“I find men generally argue reason when it comes from the mouth of a woman.”

“I fear you’ve met the wrong kind of men, My Dear.”

She tilted her head acknowledgingly.

He offered her a reassuring grin.

“Your eyes lighten when you smile.” She returned it.

“Do they?” He queried. “I’ve never been told so.”

“You seem…Much more…approachable.”

That wouldn’t take much.

“You accuse me of not being so to begin with?” He gave a mocking frown.

Her blue eyes roved his face, fathomless with some undefinable emotion. She impulsively reached over to trail the scar marring his brow and one cheek.

Where a sword tip nearly took my eye.

“Your features are so dark. And this scar so fearful that it takes one a moment to see you’re quite breathtaking.”

Breathtaking?

“I believe that’s a term one typically uses for a woman.” He frowned.

“I may say what I wish. You just said so!” She pointed out.

Touche, My Lovely. Touche.

He smiled again. “As you say.”

“May I ask you something?” She blurted.

“Anything.”

“Why is your journal so carefully chronicled? It is nearly day by day.”

His gaze fell as he mulled it over. “It’s been my only outlet. My only escape.”

“Why did you speak to no one?”

“Who would I have spoken to?” He leaned back in the chair, settling his wide shoulders.

Who’d believe me?

“There must be someone?”

You. Now.

“Who?” His haughty black brow was up again.

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