A Crown in Ash (The Ostler's Boy Book 3)

Chapter Six

Lord Askar whistled low and stepped away from me. I joined into the 'yeahs' from both his friends. To gather myself. To keep myself from from spiraling into the intense sensation that was begging to overthrow my brain. It didn't help quell anything when he and his Sword vaulted over the wooden pickets to collect their pal. They scooped him up by either arm in a rowdy sort kind of energy, and then they hoisted him into the air with a hefty grunt. The show was all very masculine, all very proud, and I was very sure of melting.

"Whiskers! Whiskers! Whiskers!" They'd started a chant.

"It's just a game, you fools," I teased, but I was snickering— no. Laughing. I was giggling at Lord Askar's poise.

I watched him grin, too; I watched his perfect jaw move to form his pride.

"Look at you!" I tried to think, but my mind was mush. "You've lost your wits. This game was designed for children. Anyone can win."

When Whiskers was settled back properly, Lord Ask set his eyes on me. Something behind his expression changed and signaled the want to play with me. The corner of his mouth bent up, and each brow went a different way.

"Can they now?" he asked. "I wonder, does that include ladies, then?"

He stepped off from his friends to lurch forward, closer to me, and in that moment, I felt as though I was his prey. I was grossly and increasingly too aware of how handsome Lord Askar was, whoever he was, and I felt it obvious in every inch of my body. Even my eyelids could not save themselves or me. They were agitated. They kept blinking; a thousand times! And my toes curled within my shoes. And my breath quickened.

He added to his question. "I should like to see you do it, then, my lady," he said.

"Lady?" Whiskers was surprised to hear it. He must have realized I was standing with them when his face became a knot. "It's you?"

"It's me," I beamed. It was weird.

He cut his attention toward his lord. "Do you know her, Y—?"

"Of course, I know her," Ask lied. He clamped his hand over Whiskers', fiercely shaking it. "Thank you for the laughs today, Ser," he said. "You and Frid enjoy the faire some more. Take my wager, yes?"

"Aye, but!" He stared at the gold his lord left in his hand "Yo—?"

Ask sighed and loudly. He relented into a quiet response. "We'll meet tomorrow, as planned, Ser Whiskey. I'd like to see the lady back to her chaperone if it pleases you."

Then Whiskers leaned in. I barely heard what he said. "I think she's married, sir."

"Married?" I laughed. "I'm not married." They weren't happy I was eavesdropping. "Sorry."

For a second, the two men were locked in some sort of stare. Ask returned a comment, but he was less obvious, and whatever it was he said, I didn't know beyond the words "Oreian women."