A Knight Alone

Sir Graeme of Hewes strode through the halls of Ughelor, his footsteps echoing against cold stone. The banquet had been an ordeal; he could hardly tolerate the smug faces of his brothers, much less "Prince" Cador; his welcomes had felt like a mockery. Anger turned to uneasiness now that he was alone in the castle's winding corridors. Shadows danced in the torchlight, stretching out like they were trying to reach for him. He quickened, his eyes darting from corner to corner, catching brief glimpses of something unreal. Dark shapes moved at the edge of his vision and disappeared the moment he turned his head. He scoffed inwardly at his own nerves. The stories that hung around Ughelor of ghouls and ghosts were lurking in his shadow. He wasn't a man given to superstition, but something about this place felt like it saw him and found him lacking.

He turned a corner and froze. A figure, impossibly tall and thin, stood at the far end of the hallway. Graeme blinked, and it was gone. He let out a harsh breath and laughed under his breath, though the sound was strange when the echo reached his ear. Trying to shake off the chill running down his spine, he hurried on toward his quarters. He

As he reached the last turn before his room, he nearly collided with someone. He took a startled step back, his hand moving instinctively to the hilt of his sword, but he froze when he realized who it was.

“Sir Graeme. I didn't mean to startle you,” Rachel said, her voice soft and welcoming. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. Since leaving the banquet she'd changed into a long linen chemise. He choked when he saw how thin its material was. Her sudden appearance **** his thoughts back to the dinner, the way her lips curved into a sly smile for other men. His mouth twisted into a scowl as he remembered the sway of her hips as she moved through the hall.

His hand slipped from his sword. Though he could feel his heart racing in his chest, he smirked. “I didn't think you had,” he said. He took a moment to ogle the low neckline that accentuated the smooth expanse of her skin. She was even more tempting up close, and he didn't bother to hide the way his eyes trailed over her, hungrily drinking her in. He **** himself to look away before she could notice.

"Have you lost your way? It's dangerous to wander Ughelor at night. Not all the stories are false," she said. The noblewoman seemed well at home in this darkness. Her hair made a man wonder whether she'd been made for it.

He frowned. "Apparitions can't hurt me. Milady," he said.

"I wouldn't imagine they would! Only, it's better to avoid them altogether. They can be such a bother." She slipped her arm into his. "Why don't I bring you the rest of the way? I think I remember where your room is." That she had not been there when Cador had parceled out the quarters never occurred to Graeme.

"If it'd settle your fears," he said. He lifted his chin. Though the way she looked at him now was rousing, he couldn't forget how at dinner she had only had eyes for John. The bastard had had his pick of women all the way from Losk, in every tavern or farmhouse, and didn't care one bit to share the wealth of flesh. This woman, barely more than a girl, really, was just the same.

"Wonderful," said Rachel. She nudged him onward, and they proceeded down the hall. It wasn't far at all. The strangeness of the light had let Graeme forget exactly how near he'd been, before imaginary creatures had distracted him.