“Sir, you appear markedly more subdued than during our last encounters,” she noted, pulling her mare to a walk beside his stallion.

“I suppose so, my Princess,” Daniel replied, a faint smile touching his lips as they rode side by side, guiding their mounts deeper into the thickening woods. “At that time, I wanted to end the game of cat and mouse. Tonight, I had hoped we might simply ride together and speak.”

Kat pondered his words as the autumn leaves crunched beneath the horses’ hooves, nodding her agreement. “I desire the same, Sir. But first… what jest is this regarding a game of cat and mouse? I have never played games with you.” She turned her head, studying his profile with genuine curiosity.

“I was referring to the grand multitude of glances and telltale blushes you threw in my direction whenever I stood at a distance,” he said softly, “contrasted against the complete indifference you projected the moment I dared step near.”

Kat’s mind spun into a sudden, dizzying reel. Her grip tightened on the reins. What was he saying? Had he truly witnessed her stolen glances even since her time at the Scriptor’s Hall? It was impossible; she had been exceptionally guarded, shielding her eyes behind lattices and the shoulders of her ladies. If he had known, how far back did the knowledge go?

“Sir, what nonsense do you speak?” she asked, her voice defensive. “When, precisely, do you claim to have seen me glance or blush?”

“Each time I rode into the Anatomist’s courtyard with my retinue,” Daniel countered easily, turning his head to look at her, amused at her bewilderment. “Dozens of times across the length of the sparring grounds, during the high convocations of the court…”

“Sir, you noticed those?” Kat shook her head, her voice dropping to an urgent murmur as if she were trying to argue with her own memory. “But I scarcely looked your way. My glances were swifter than a heartbeat.”

Panic must have been written plainly across her face, because Daniel studied her for only a fraction of a second before letting out a low, quiet laugh that shook his broad shoulders. “Kat,” he said, his voice softening. “Forget what I said. Your glances were... subtle.”

Kat was feeling wretched.

“So… you knew? Even back within the Scriptor’s Hall, all those years ago?” she asked, the old memories suddenly reframing themselves in her mind.

Daniel went quiet, his gaze drifting to the trail ahead as the horses stepped rhythmically through the fallen leaves. When he finally looked back at her, the usual rogue’s armor was gone, replaced by a raw, quiet candor.

“I knew,” he admitted softly. “You were fourteen, Kat. I was sixteen, and trying desperately to be sensible. When I saw you down in the Scriptor’s Hall—a princess in an apprentice’s coarse shift, comforting a sick child—you struck me through. But I knew the rules of the realm. I even welcomed my assignment away from the capital, fully believing two years in the provinces would cure a passing fancy.”

He let out a short, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head. “It was an utter failure. My mind spent those two years circling back to a blushing girl in the dark vaults. You had been so exceptionally cold at the tournament before my departure that I rode out certain I had been thoroughly forgotten—and I returned to the keep no more cured than when I left. For another year I kept my distance, and told myself it was wisdom. Until I caught your eyes tracking me from the height of the grand terrace again.”

“Can you truly discern a countenance from such a distance, Sir?” Kat interrupted, a sudden prickle of terror returning to her voice.

“Just as your eyes search the yard for me, Katarina, mine scour the stones for you,” he said, stripping away all pretense. “Once I verified that you were looking only at me, I resolved to at least let you know I saw you in return.”

“And your instinct was to overwhelm me with kisses by the paddock?” she asked, keeping her voice light, though her heart was hammering.

“I did not plan it exactly that way ahead of time,” he murmured, quiet laughter returning to his eyes. “The kiss was inevitable the moment you closed your eyes as I approached.”

“Oh, so now I wanted you to kiss me?” Kat asked with mock exasperation.

Sir Daniel pulled on his reins to stop and look at Kat fully.

“You do not have to hide yourself from me. I do not know how, but I can read what you want. And I want you too,” he said, with that gaze that always threw her into a panic.

Kat could feel the heat rising to her temples. So, he could read her and unsettle her this way whenever he chose, with just a look? Something daring came to her mind, and she looked up to meet his gaze.

“Dismount at once, Sir,” she commanded, her voice carrying the full authority of her blood, though her emerald eyes danced with a sudden boldness.

Daniel looked at her for a fraction of a second in sheer astonishment, and then he chuckled. “As my princess commands.”

He swung down from his saddle with practiced grace, securing his horse before stepping forward to assist Kat down. The moment her boots met the mossy earth, she stepped directly into his space, then looked up at his face closely, without touching him.

He was observing her without an ounce of laughter anywhere in his face now, watching each breath as if spellbound. She glanced at his lips and then met his gaze again, but still did not move.

“Daniel,” Kat whispered.

He closed the remaining distance, his strong arms winding securely around her waist to pull her flush against his chest, dipping his head to kiss her with a deep, consuming ferocity that made the autumn woods fade into nothingness.

He didn’t smell of the heavy lavender pomades or rosewater oils the court lords drenched themselves in. He smelled of rain-soaked cedar, worn leather, and campfire woodsmoke. The heat radiating through his linen, the urgency with which he kissed her, and the raw scent of him made her whole body tingle.

When the kiss finally dissolved, Kat rested her forehead gently against the hollow of his throat, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“That is what you did to me before I closed my eyes,” she said.

“Well played,” he said, chuckling softly and shaking his head.

She looked up at him and put her palm against his cheek. “Daniel,” she whispered again. She relished the sound of it, as if it were a spell that bound the knight to her side.

He looked down at her, his gaze thoroughly drunk on his name upon her lips. He shifted to kiss her again, but Kat gently moved her lips away, pressing soft kisses along the line of his jaw and down the column of his neck.

Boldly, her fingers found the leather lacings of his tunic, loosening the heavy hide to expose the soft linen shift beneath. Her hands wandered freely over the broad muscles of his shoulders—those very arms she had spent years watching from the safety of the stone terraces.

A soft, breathless laugh escaped Daniel’s throat, his eyes closing tightly as her lips tracked over his sun-browned skin. After a few lingering moments, Kat drew back, and Daniel took a deliberate step backward, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“I am deeply afraid that if we venture further along this path, we shall find ourselves in an exceptionally precarious position, Princess,” he said, his voice strained but resolute.

Kat nodded, smoothing the front of her riding habit as she regained her composure. “Your judgment is correct, Sir. We shall not venture beyond the boundary of kissing. Is that a covenant we can agree upon?”

“We shall go no further than kissing, and the embrace will cease the exact moment the Princess desires it to stop,” Daniel agreed, his expression shifting into one of solemn seriousness.

They secured their horses to a low-hanging branch and sat down together against the massive, twisting roots of an ancient oak tree. Lost in the quiet sanctuary of each other’s presence, they let the hours slip away, acutely aware of how rare and precious such stolen evenings were.

Sir Daniel escorted the Princess safely back to the edge of the paddock just as the final purple of twilight bled into night, while Celia kept the paths clear of the castle watch.