Gideon


    Gideon was suspicious.


    Of people, of longsting friendships, of how others often thought women more emotional than men when Gideon had watched Keeley calmly look death in the eye while the king he’d served for ten years sprinted from it like his ass was on fire.


    Keeley would never run like her ass was on fire.


    Good going, Gideon. Now you’re thinking about her ass.


    It didn’t help that he had a perfect view of it as he snuck quietly after the Malevolent Guard on the north road to the abandoned tunnels into the Gleaming Pce, trying to keep a healthy distance as he followed the fearless women and men down the path to their possible demise.


    How many times had he made this march for King Benedict? How many times had he hated himself for it, for unquestioningly following a man he knew was a monster because he was too afraid of what he’d return to if he went back to his family?


    But this band of soldiers was nothing like the Valiant Guard. They were acting not out of fear but out of loyalty. Without even realizing it, The Viin had created a cause that all his workers were willing to fight for, just because they believed in it, in him. It was exactly what Benedict had preached his men were to the public. It reminded Gideon that the world should always be wary of a king who boasts and instead pay attention to the misfits and outcasts. They usually had far more important things to say yet far less opportunity to say them.


    “Sir knight!” a voice hissed before a force hit the back of his legs and knocked him t on his stomach. Hands wrapped around his ankles and dragged him into the bushes, a canopy of trees above them. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” Keeley spoke in whispers, but he was close enough to hear the venom in them. Amazing. Gideon didn’t know how she managed such a thing when speaking at such a quiet volume.


    “Not yet, but the night is young!” Gideon grinned, then groaned when Keeley punched her steel fist into his shoulder. Rubbing it, he sat up and brought himself onto his knees. “I take it you’re not happy to see me.”


    She flicked him on the shoulder and hissed, “I told you that you weren’t toe. I said to stay put, and instead you follow us on our recon mission? If one of the others had seen you, they would’ve shot you on instinct.”


    Gideon put a hand to his heart, mock-touched. “Are you saying that your first instinct isn’t to shoot me?”


    It was too dark to see for sure, but he hoped he had made her cheeks take on that lovely rosy flush that made him stare at the wall for a little while afterward. But there were no walls about, so he was left to stare right at her.


    “I really hate you,” she said, sounding more irritated than actually angry.


    “I think you wish you did,” Gideon supplied helpfully and threw up his hands when her fist swung back again. “All right, I surrender! I was upset at being left behind when this is the one way I can help my sisters.”


    Keeley bent to stand, reaching a hand down for Gideon and surprising the deands out of him. He took it cautiously, checking under her wrist and over it. “What are you doing, sir knight?”


    “Waiting for the hidden de to stab me.” He made a show of squinting at the gap in her red sleeve, but she tugged him up so hard he lost his footing and, to catch himself, raised his arms up, both palms nted on the tree behind Keeley. He hadn’t meant to, but it brought him much closer to her; she smelled like lemons again, which made his mouth go dry. “No hidden de…” he whispered, watching the illusion of her dislike of him begin to waver, revealing glimpses of a woman he’d fight wild elephants to impress, to make her smile at him.


    It was difficult to discern if she was feeling the same rush of emotion, but her eyes were wide, and she was more silent than she’d ever been in the short time he’d known her. “No hidden de,” she admitted finally, tugging at the end of her thick braid.


    Feeling bold at the admission, he reached up and ran his fingers along a strand. It was softer than he’d thought it would be, which was odd, since Gideon tended to make things better in his head than they were in reality. This, unfortunately, was one of those moments where his expectations had been far too low. This woman wasn’t just extraordinary. She was extraordinarily dangerous.


    “You don’t cut it.” They both knew what he was talking about.


    Keeley stiffened, something shutting down in her eyes, elbowing him hard as she shoved him away. “No, I don’t, and that is none of your business.”


    He shrugged. “Fair enough, dimples.”


    Keeley rolled her eyes, but her lips moved up just slightly. “I do not have dimples.”


    Gideon gestured in the air, unimpressed. “Prove it.”


    She was fighting the smile now—he could tell. “No.”


    Gideon leaned in, looking deadly serious. “My socks have little goats on them.”


    Almost there. “So?”


    He looked side to side and then whispered, “One of the maids got them for me from The Viin’s sock drawer.”


    There it was. Keeley’s smile. Fully beaming, beautiful, and absolutely devastating. The worst thing that had ever happened to him, really.


    “Liar,” Gideon said, pointing at two indents on her cheeks.


    She beamed wider, and the dimples went deeper. “Fine, I’m a liar.” She brushed past him and spun around. “You maye with us, but do not interfere in any way or I will not hesitate to run you through.”


    Gideon saluted. “Understood.”


    It was a damn shame that he found he enjoyed her far more than he should, considering the real reason he had followed them.


    Liar, he’d used her.


    But not because of her dimples. No, he’d known she had those.


    Gideon liked Keeley a great deal. And it was a damn shame, since he was fairly certain she was the traitor. He followed behind her, watching her braid sway, the singed bit tucked away and out of view. And as that beautiful braid caught stray beams of moonlight in a glimmer that cut his breath short, he grappled with what he’d have to do if his suspicion proved true.