Dael reached up, slid a hand around the back of Flavia’s neck, and kissed her.
Cerdic was right. It was dying and coming alive all at once.
It was all the times he’d been breathless after sword practice, and the sweetness of the orange fruit she’d shared with him.
It was –
“Fascinating. The lady of the house taking up with a servant.”
Dael wrenched himself back. Terror curled through his limbs, and instinctively he stepped back, bowed his head, and when had being servile become second nature?
Out of the corner of his eye, Flavia stood tall.
“What of it?”
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