He should have let her keep ranting.
But he didn't.
In three long strides, he closed the distance, ignoring the shuffling soldiers and curious glances from his companions. His hand cupped her flushed, frantic face, his thumb grazing the warm, ink-smeared skin just below her cheekbone. Her breath hitched, her tirade cut off mid-word as her mouth fell slightly open in shock. And then he leaned in and claimed her lips in a kiss that silenced everything.
The scrolls tumbled from her hands, parchment slipping from her fingers like frightened pigeons scattering into the rafters. A few sheets fluttered against his boots, ignored. The air between them thickened, the weight of her breath mingling with his as her initial stiffness crumbled in his arms. She sagged into him with a strangled sound, something between a protest and a shuddering relief, her arms snapping around his neck like iron shackles.
