"And I meant what I said. About knowing you better than anyone. About trust."
"I know," Jaenor said quietly.
They stayed like that for several heartbeats, the position intimate in ways that transcended the performance for Matilda's benefit. Then Rena shifted back to her own seat.
Across the tavern, Taeryn had witnessed the entire exchange. He raised his cup in a salute to Rena, grinning wickedly, before returning his attention to the blonde woman who seemed perfectly content with his company.
Baren had dozed off slightly, his head resting against the wall, his wife's memory temporarily giving him peace rather than pain.
And Jaenor sat with Rena, both of them nursing their drinks and processing what had just happened.
"That's going to be all over the duchy by morning," Rena observed.
"Probably," Jaenor agreed.
"People will have opinions about the lord's romantic entanglements."
"Definitely."
"Do you care?" Rena asked.
Jaenor considered that, then smiled.
