“Kat, since when do you take note of tournament knights? I knew that man would be the ruin of some highborn lady; I just did not expect it to be you,” Celesta countered, her tone unyielding. “I have never known you to spare a glance for the martial crowd, regardless of how much the other ladies sigh over them. There is something happening here without my knowledge. Why was he looking at you in such a manner?”

“Celesta, a great multitude of people look at me every single day!” Katarina said, her voice rising in a sharp spike of frustration.

“No. Not like that,” Celesta said firmly, crossing her arms. “You are concealing something grave from me, sister. I can read it plain across your brow, and it is deeply unsettling. You would do well to speak the truth to me soon, before someone less sympathetic takes notice.”

“I shall speak to you if there is ever an issue of actual import to share,” Kat snapped, desperately grasping for a shield to end the interrogation. She exhaled a long, ragged breath, shifting her weight. “In truth, I am simply buried beneath a mountain of anxiety regarding the upcoming trials at the Scriptor’s Hall. I have too much upon my slate to untangle whatever grand conspiracies you are inventing.”

Celesta studied her sister’s flushed face for one lingering, tense moment. Perhaps recognizing that further prodding would only cause the wall to rise higher, she finally relented with a quiet, unconvinced sigh.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

As the Anatomist’s trials drew near, it had become Katarina’s habit to linger within the sanctuary of the castle Lexicon far past the regular hours of the court, often in the company of her fellow apprentices. They would crowd around the heavy pine tables, trading hurried diagnostic theories under the low hum of the tallow lamps, but Katarina invariably stayed behind even after the last of her weary cohort had departed from the hall.

On one such night, when the rest of the Lexicon’s grand chambers had fallen into absolute darkness, and even the ancient keeper had curtsied and taken her leave, Kat remained within her chosen alcove. A mere handful of beeswax candles illuminated her desk, casting long, dancing shadows across the rows of towering bookshelves as she scribbled urgent annotations onto her scrolls, her eyes burning as she pored over the heavy volumes.

She had no inkling of how long he had been standing within the gloom. It was only the subtle, rhythmic shuffle of leather boots against stone near an oaken shelf that caused her to snap her head up. There, leaning casually against a stack of histories, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied her, was Sir Daniel.

Kat sat up straight, her posture shifting automatically into that of a princess, her lips parting to offer a reprimand or perhaps a greeting. But Daniel merely raised a solitary hand, silencing her before she could give voice to her shock. He closed the distance between them with quiet, deliberate strides, sinking to one knee beside her heavy wooden chair.

He did not speak. Instead, his gaze flicked to her hand, gently lifting it to examine the dark ink stains coloring her fingers, before pressing a soft, reverent kiss against her knuckles.

When he looked back up, his face was inches from her own, his dark eyes searching hers in the dim candlelight. This kiss on her knuckles, and the way he looked at her now, were far more tender than the way he had touched her in the stables.

Yielding to an instinct older than any royal decree, Kat closed her eyes and leaned forward, bridging the remaining space between them. Daniel’s hand slid immediately to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in the loose waves of her hair as he pulled her closer, returning the kiss with a fierce, intoxicating intensity that made the vaulted ceiling spin.

When the kiss finally broke, they did not pull entirely apart; their foreheads remained resting against one another, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the alcove.

“What is this? Is this wrong? What am I to do, Sir?” Kat whispered against his skin, the weight of her station and her hidden desires finally breaking through her armor.

Daniel slowly drew back, his expression softening into a look of concern as he gathered both of her ink-stained hands within his calloused palms.

“You need do nothing, Princess,” he murmured softly. “Absolutely nothing is expected of you.”

To her utter bewilderment, a sudden, hot sting of tears welled in her eyes. He had unraveled her defenses to this point, and now he claimed nothing was expected of her?

Sensing her distress, Daniel’s brow furrowed. “I suppose this is all thoroughly uncharted territory for you,” he said gently.

“Is it… not uncharted territory for you?” Kat asked quickly.

Daniel laughed involuntarily at the sudden interrogation, then looked her fully in the eyes. “It is for me as well. I did not realize my presence would bring you such torment. If it is your wish, I can be gone from this court by tomorrow’s light, Katarina. I cannot bear to be the architect of your pain.”

Kat stared at him, her chest tightening. “You would simply walk away? Just vanish from the keep?” she asked, her voice dangerously hollow.

“This arrangement is clearly not yielding you any happiness,” he replied, looking down at their joined hands.

“And what precisely do you believe is making me unhappy?” she challenged softly.

“Me. Us. The uncertainty of it,” Daniel sighed, a rare touch of confusion clouding his usually confident features.

Kat offered a small, watery laugh, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you mean to say you would not even offer a fight for me, Sir? That you have no desire to truly discover how I feel? That is not very knightly of you,” she pressed him.

“The knightly thing to do would be to spare you, is it not?” Daniel countered.

“You could have spared me before you kissed me the first time,” Kat retorted, refusing to relent.

“I suppose I am still a man first, and a knight after, Katarina.” He gazed at her with that familiar intensity that always made her want to look away. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek, his thumb slowly caressing her skin. “You have been dodging me at every turn, have you not? I do not wish to cause such a torment to rage in your heart.”

Kat managed a faint smile, leaning slightly into his touch. “And are you certain your departure will undo the torment raging in my heart?”

Daniel studied her for a long, silent moment, letting her quiet admission sink in. “You are a truly singular creature, Princess,” he finally said.

“I want you to stay near me, and only look at me, always,” Kat said with a stubborn finality, giving voice to what she truly wanted, as though a princess could simply command a knight to remain at her side for eternity.