Loche stared at her for a moment, and she waited for him to say something else, but he only shook his head almost imperceptibly, his lips lifting higher as he continued walking.
Lessia stared in wonder at the ice-covered walls of the hallway he and Geyia led her through, the simple beauty of the sparkling ice illuminated by torches attached every few feet.
Murmurs and the rattle of dishes drifted toward them as more light spilled onto the stony ground and the passage opened wider until a massive arched chamber came into view.
Geyia skipped out right into the arms of a beautiful man. He was short, with wild red curls tumbling down his back and piercing green eyes that found Lessia’s the moment she stepped into the chamber.
The man grinned at her, giving Geyia a quick kiss before running up and pulling Loche into a tight embrace. As Lessia backed up a step, the man released Loche and turned to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he enveloped her in the smell of fire and food.
Lessia stiffened, but when the man barked a laugh, she made herself return the greeting.
As he pulled back, Loche glared at him, pulling Lessia to his side.
The red-haired man winked at her, flashing a row of large white teeth. “Welcome! I’m Steiner.”
His eyes trailed over her face and body, zeroing in on where her hand was joined with Loche’s, and his green eyes glinted with mischief. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined. How did Loche manage to snare you? Or did he kidnap you?”
“Steiner…” Loche warned, his grip on her hand tightening.
She could only sense pure sincerity from the man, so Lessia gave him a faint smile. “He did, actually.”
Steiner threw his head back and cackled. “I like her already.”
With a groan, Loche tugged her closer, his arm snaking over her shoulders. “I’ll show Lessia to our chambers, and then I expect some of that food Geyia talked of. But tone down the insinuations. Remember who brought you all here.”
As Loche dragged her with him, Steiner’s laugh echoed behind them, and Lessia let out a surprised snort when she overheard Geyia scold him, telling him not to scare her away.
“This is where the nobles and part of the royal court hid during the war,” Loche explained as he led her up a wide stone staircase. “It’s a cave, but the king took great measures to make it comfortable. There’s room for hundreds of people, although there’s only about thirty or so living here now. I came here a lot during my first year as regent—when I needed a break from all the politics.”
Lessia nodded as her eyes swept around the space.
They’d entered a large circular room where several fires burned bright. Groups of people huddled around each hearth, some cooking and some seemingly only mingling and socializing.
Around them, a great number of benches and chairs were arranged, and a few long tables stood closest to the grandest fireplace. Barrels of what she guessed was stored food and wine were placed around the walls, and everywhere flickered lanterns and candles that cast the room in a warm glow.
By the stairs where they now walked were rooms every few steps, rounded openings exposing comfortable bedding on the floor, smaller dining sets, and a fireplacein each.
“The people living here are outcasts. Some I knew living on the streets back home, some I met during my time in the navy, and then there is Geyia, of course. They don’t fit in society—some don’t even want to try, but they still deserve a safe place to live.”
Her eyes briefly met his in understanding, and she bit her lip to hide a smile.
Loche’s gaze shifted to her mouth, and he lifted his hand to her cheek, his thumb freeing her lip from her teeth.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
So she didn’t.
Lessia let her lips curl into a broad smile, and Loche exhaled sharply.
Dragging her with him, he took two steps at a time until they reached the top floor, where another small chamber lay. In the middle of the room stood a large bed with white bedding and a thick fur blanket, and in the corner crackled an already lit fireplace with a plush couch before it. On the other side of the bed was a desk with a few books and papers strewn out across it.
As Loche set down the satchel he’d been carrying on the desk, his head whipped back and forth from the room to the rounded opening, and his brows snapped together.
“What is it?” she asked.
Loche dragged a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think this through.”
She raised a brow.
