Nicholas said, ‘He is going to cause trouble.’
‘You’re the one who’s already caused trouble,’ answered Harry.
‘She doesn’t love him,’ said Nicholas.
‘Oh, she told you this?’ asked Harry.
‘Not in so many words, but –’
‘Tell me on the way to our rooms. We’ve got to be ready for tomorrow.’
As they walked, Nicholas said, ‘She doesn’t want to stay here with Marcus, that’s certain.’
Harry nodded. ‘So you think you’ll take her back to Krondor?’
‘Why not?’ said Nicholas with an edge of anger in his tone.
‘You know why,’ answered Harry. ‘Because you’re going to marry some Princess from the court of Roldem, or a Duke’s daughter, or a Princess of Kesh.’
With anger in his voice, and the memory of Abigail’s kiss still fresh in his thoughts, he said, ‘What if I don’t want to?’
Sighing, Harry said, ‘What if your King commands you to?’
Nicholas’s jaws tightened, but he said nothing. He ached with frustration, the frustration of the interrupted embrace and the frustration of wanting to plant his fist in Marcus’s face. At last he asked, ‘What did Margaret do that got you so flustered?’
Harry blushed again. ‘She’s … amazing.’ He drew a deep breath and blew it out theatrically. ‘She started by asking me how the men in Krondor kiss, then asked me to show her. One thing led to another.’ He stopped as if catching his wind. With red cheeks, he said, ‘She got very bold, and …’ He paused, then blurted, ‘Nicholas, she asked me if I’d ever been with a woman!’
‘She didn’t!’ exclaimed Nicky, half laughing, half groaning.
‘She did! Then …’
‘What?’
‘Then she asked me what it was like!’
‘She didn’t!’
‘Will you stop saying that. She did.’
‘So what did you say?’
‘I told her what it was like.’
‘And?’
‘She laughed at me! Then she said, ‘When you know what you’re talking about, Squire, come let me know. I’m curious.’ Then she went back to kissing me, and moving around against me so I thought I was going to burst! Then Abigail came running over and said Marcus was coming, and they hurried off.’
‘Amazing,’ observed Nicholas, his anger and frustration vanishing before his astonishment at his unusual cousin Margaret.
‘She’s that,’ Harry said.
‘You still think you’re in love?’ Nicholas asked jokingly.
‘My stomach hurts worse than ever, but …’
‘What?’
‘Your cousin Margaret is really scary.’
Nicholas laughed and bade Harry good night. As he returned to his own quarters, he lapsed into a memory of soft lips, warm perfume, and the most incredible eyes he had ever beheld. His body warmed at the memory. And his stomach hurt like mad.
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