Bedroll

Leon’s face dropped in disbelief. He furrowed his brow and shook his head, “Emelia, you are NOT doing this,” his voice was stern and unyielding.

Emelia held a marker in her hand and placed it in the forest on the map. “It’s the only way,” she said. “They won’t be expecting a woman,” she said, her eyes fixed on her newly placed marker. “I’ve read about these forests in the history books, and they grow quinces. If I dress the part, they will likely think I’m just a local woman who has traveled too far.” Emelia inched her marker further back in the forest, scheming. “Once I’m there, I can attack from behind, drawing the attention of the archers and giving our soldiers an opening to advance.”

Leon gently grasped Emelia’s shoulders and spun her around to face him. He looked her deep in the eyes, his brows knitting together in worry. “And what if it doesn’t? I lose you forever.”

Emelia glanced back and forth between Leon and the map, a determination settling into her features. “I have to do this,” she said, her voice firm and unwavering. “I owe it to everyone to try.”

Lassiter’s voice pierced through the fog of tension that had descended upon the room. “I will give you all our intelligence about the traps in the woods,” he declared.

Emelia gave a solemn nod of approval at the strategy. Then she strode over to Leon, whose silhouette was outlined against the entrance of the moonlit tent. She followed him outside and stopped in her tracks as the stars emerged, their twinkling images perfectly reflected in the depths of her eyes. A moment of clarity, of remembrance of all that led her to this moment, washed over her. Then, she shook off the feeling and squared her shoulders, marching back into her temporary home with a newfound sense of power and determination.

Leon strode after her, his face stern and set. “I’m not letting you do this,” he said, his voice brooking no argument as he zipped close the tent behind them.

“I don’t believe you have a choice in the matter,” Emelia said firmly. She turned her gaze to Leon, who stood still as a statue with a quiet intensity that made her heart flutter. She rose off her toes and stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I know it will work,” she whispered against his skin.

As she leaned in to kiss his cheek, Leon quickly turned his head and captured her lips with his own. His gaze stayed locked with hers as if he were memorizing her face and the details of the moment. “Then I’m staying with you tonight,” he said. “If you insist on doing this, I will not spend the night apart from you.” His voice was a low rumble, and his hands cupped her face, a ghost of warmth lingering underneath his fingertips. He lowered his eyes to meet hers again and added softly, “Especially when it could very well be our last.”

Emelia’s chest tightened as her eyes searched Leon’s. She could feel the heat of his skin radiating into her body and could barely contain the impulse to say the three little words that were begging to be released. Her lips quivered, the words lingering in her throat, but her better judgment held her back. Leon’s expression softened, and he reached up to press his hand against hers. “Leon,” she breathed, her thoughts racing as she considered the potential judgment of others. “What would people think?” she asked softly.

Leon couldn’t take his eyes off her. He imagined her skin felt as soft as velvet, and the floral notes of her perfume teased his senses. He felt a wave of recklessness crash over him and tightened his grip on her waist. “When have I ever cared about what other people think?”

Gently, Emelia ran her fingers up the length of Leon’s spine, feeling his body quiver beneath her touch. Her lips met his in a gentle kiss, and his arms encircled her waist, pressing her body against his. With a deep sigh, Leon’s hand traveled to the nape of her neck, and he returned her kiss. His lips tasted of sweet honey, and Emelia’s heart raced as the kiss intensified and his tongue found hers. She tightly grabbed the back of his shirt with both hands, her fingertips tangled into the fabric. Her eyes were shut tightly as a soft moan escaped her lips. She felt her body melting into his embrace. Pulling back, she looked into Leon’s eyes, her own still foggy with desire. In a hushed whisper, she breathed, “I love you.”

Leon opened his mouth, but he felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. He had long waited to hear Emelia tell him she loved him, but his mind was still scrambling to process what he had heard. He felt his throat constrict, but he forced out the words, “You do?” His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for her response.

Emelia’s voice was soft and apologetic as she finally responded, “Yes.” She was so regretful that the words almost couldn’t escape her lips. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to say-”

Leon’s lips met hers with a desperate intensity, making her forget everything she had been about to apologize for. At that moment, she knew exactly what it meant to be in love. Her insides wriggled like a colony of butterflies, and an overwhelming affection for him coursed through her veins. Gently, Emelia grazed her hands over his body, her fingertips tracing the mounds of thick muscles on his arms and the gentle curves of his chest and back. With each stroke, an electrifying wave of pleasure surged through her until she felt lost in a sea of utter euphoria.

Emelia’s hands trembled with anticipation as she ran her fingers down his chest and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him toward her bedroll with unexpected strength. Their lips were locked in a passionate kiss that seemed to last forever.