Kirstin finished cleaning the bowl and handed it back to me. I passed her the bundle of food to take with her to the thatched cottage my family lived in on the outskirts of Romsdal with the other villeins who farmed the lord’s land.
She lingered only a few minutes longer before going on her way. As much as I enjoyed her visits every morn, I worried about her traveling about on her own. But she insisted on coming rather than sending Enok in her stead.
With a final wave, I retreated down the steps and to the lower level where the kitchen and storage rooms were located. The scent of herbs and vegetables and venison in a stew filled the passageway, and I faltered feeling suddenly dizzy. I stopped and braced myself against the wall.
The door of the storage room beside me swung open. I started forward, not wanting to be caught lingering lest anyone accuse me of trying to steal from the stores. But before I could make it past, a hand reached out, caught my arm, and began to drag me out of the hallway.
I jerked to free myself, and in the same instant I caught sight of Gunnar with a finger pressed against his lips cautioning me to remain silent. I ceased my struggling and allowed him to pull me into the room.
He closed the door behind us, and darkness would have encompassed us if not for the candle resting on a nearby barrel, illuminating a platter filled with all manner of meats and cheeses and breads.
I salivated just glimpsing it and rapidly turned my attention to him instead. “Are you making it your mission to scare me to death?”
I waited for a witty comeback, for his ready grin, for him to tease me about how easy I was to sneak up on. But his beautiful face was more serious than I’d ever seen it before. “No, I’m making it my mission to ensure that you have enough sustenance that you’ll live.”
“As you can see, I’m living.” I reached for the door handle, unwilling to subject myself to his pity or the reminder of the difference in our stations.
He stepped more fully in front of the door and leaned against it. “You’re giving your family almost all your food and leaving nothing for yourself.”
“I don’t need much.” I lifted my chin and glared at him. “Now please step aside. I need to return to the nursery.”
“Not until you eat some of the food I brought you.” In the windowless room with only the light of the candle, his dark blue eyes were almost black. How could I resist, even if I wanted to?
I swayed.
“When’s the last time you had something?” His voice was gruff even as he steadied me gently.
“Yesterday for supper. But I’m fine.”
He growled something under his breath, then guided me toward the platter. “Eat.”
I stared down at the food. I couldn’t eat it, could I? Doing so would only humiliate me and put me in his debt. “I can’t.”
He picked up one of the slices of cheese and held it against my lips. “Good, then you give me no choice but to feed you myself, which I shall gladly do.”
“I don’t want to be beholden—” As I opened my mouth to speak, he inserted the cheese. In doing so, his fingers brushed my lips.
The contact was brief, but it was enough to cause lightning to sizzle along my lips and throughout my body. I was too aware of the sparks to taste anything. Even so, I chewed and swallowed.
“Ready for more?” He lifted another wedge of cheese.
I reached up to take the piece from him. As much as I wanted to go on all morning letting him touch my lips, I couldn’t. In fact, being anywhere near him was a big mistake.
“I can feed myself—” Before I could get the words out, he slid more cheese in, his fingers lingering on my lips longer this time.
I fumbled for his hand, needing to take the cheese away, needing to break free of his touch.
“Let me—” I murmured, but even then, he gave me another bite.
His lips twitched upward with the beginning of a smile.
“This isn’t humorous—”
He shoveled in more. “You’re making this easier than I anticipated.”
“Stop.”
He squeezed in the last of the cheese, his smile widening. “Keep on talking, and I’ll have you fed in no time.”
I wanted to say more, but I had to put a halt to his feeding me. It was much too intimate. As he raised a chunk of ham to my lips, I snagged it from him and popped the whole thing in.
“That’s a good girl.” He retrieved a slice of thick bread from the platter.
I glared at him but took the offering, all the while fighting against the need to cram it in my mouth ravenously. I would only get sick if I ate too quickly. I had to give my empty stomach proper time to adjust to having food in it.
“If anyone discovers you’ve given me this,” I said between bites, “I’ll get into trouble.”
“It was the remainder of my meal, and I can do with it as I see fit.”
I studied his face in the candlelight, solemn but irresistible. I swallowed my mouthful. “Why are you doing this for me?”
He picked up another piece of cheese. “I saw you giving your food to your sister and realized why you and Nanna are so hungry.”
“What is it you expect of me in return? To become your next conquest?”
His head snapped up, and his eyes rounded. “What? No. Absolutely not. I expect nothing in return. Nothing.”
“Then why?” I held his gaze, needing to know the truth.
He didn’t look away. Instead, something smoldered in the depths of his eyes, something that reached out to stoke the embers inside me that I’d long tried to douse with anger.
As the warmth fanned to life inside me, I fought against it. “Don’t,” I whispered.
“Don’t what?” he whispered back.
I didn’t want him stirring up longing that could never be requited. But I couldn’t say that. “Don’t . . . don’t hurt me again.”
He dropped his gaze away, letting his lashes fall. “I’m sorry for hurting you before. I didn’t want to. But I had to do it.”
“Had to do what?” Involve himself with another woman and reject me?
He shook his head curtly. “I promise I’ll be careful not to hurt you.”
“Thank you.” Even though I wanted to hang on to my resentment, it was past time to forgive him and move forward. Besides, I’d heard rumors he and Torvald were searching for the sacred chalice on behalf of the king and queen. They would only stay until the clues took them elsewhere.
“We can be friends, can we not?” His voice contained a note of hope. “I loathe being your enemy.”
I finished eating the piece of ham. I didn’t have to remain his enemy. But could I really allow friendship to flourish between us? Would that be as dangerous for my heart as allowing attraction to grow? After all, what would stop friendship from overreaching, like runaway vines, twisting and turning and sliding beyond the fences set in place?
“How long will you be in Romsdal?” I asked.
“Another week. Two at most.”
I wasn’t disappointed at so short a time. Surely not. ’Twas as I’d thought. We wouldn’t have many opportunities to interact with how busy we would both be. Conceding to friendship wouldn’t harm anything.
“Then I agree to move from enemies to friends. But under two conditions.”