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Penellaphe’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “They didn’t.” She moved a few more inches toward me. “I did.”

That hadn’t been the answer I’d expected. “And why would you choose that?”

One white-draped shoulder rose. “I just prefer the older wing.”

I stoked the flames, taking stock of the chamber once more. The narrow door by the windows, the one I was sure led to the old servants’ staircase. The corners of my lips tipped up. “That seems like an odd preference.”

“Perhaps.” She was quiet for a moment. “Your chambers? They are in this wing also?”

“Do you ask because you’d like to visit?” I placed the poker aside.

The lower half of her cheeks pinked. “That was not why I was asking.”

“You sure?” I teased, damn well knowing it wasn’t the reason, but I enjoyed the flush creeping along the lower half of her face. “It’s okay if it was.”

Her chin rose. “It wasn’t.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Waking to her would be an unexpected delight, unlike what had occurred with Britta.

“Forget I even asked,” she muttered.

I chuckled, also enjoying her quick-to-surface ire. “Yes, my chambers are a floor below.” Brushing my hands on my pants, I rose. “Though the ceiling is not as high as your chambers, nor is it as cold.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I mean that your chambers are comfortable.” Her clasped fingers relaxed, even as the skin beneath her veil continued to deepen in color. “Do you still have your quarters at the dorm?”

I nodded.

“Do you stay at them?” The hem of her white robes glided silently over the stone as she came forward. “I don’t think Vikter stays at his often.”

“I haven’t since I became your servant.”

“You’re not my servant,” she quickly corrected.

“But I am here to serve you.” I tilted my head, watching the lower half of her face closely. The skin there. Her mouth. “In whatever way necessary.”

Penellaphe huffed out a noise that almost sounded like a laugh. “You are my guard, not my servant. You serve as my protection and…”

“And?”

“And you serve as a source of irritation.”

I laughed deeply. “You wound me yet again, Princess.”

“Doubtful.” There was a twitch to her lips as if she were fighting a smile. “And don’t call me that.”

I grinned at her. “I was disappointed this evening, by the way.”

“By what?” She’d stopped coming closer. The gold chains of her veil twinkled in the lamplight.

“I hoped you would ask to take a walk in the garden.”

“Oh.” She drew her plump lower lip between her teeth as she looked at the windows. “I…I thought about it.” A forlorn sigh left her, tugging at my chest. “I do miss those walks.”

An emotion I didn’t want to recognize festered. Guilt. My gaze followed hers to the blue-black sky beyond. Just for a moment, I allowed myself to wish I had chosen a different location in which to move my plan forward—somewhere she hadn’t found peace. Then I wouldn’t have stolen that from her.

“Maybe another night this week, after the Rite,” she said.

I turned to her, finding that she had been watching me. “Of course,” I lied. Clearing my mind of what I’d already cost her wasn’t easy, but I thought of my brother. The peace that had been stolen from him. That did the job. “As I said, I live to serve you.”

Her sigh was impressive. “Then you must live a rather boring life.”

“I did.” I dipped my chin as I slowly made my way to where she stood, just beyond the little sitting areas she had created by the fire. “Until I became your…” I swore I felt her eyes narrowing. “Protector.”

“Guard,” she clarified.

“Now, I’m a bit confused.” I crossed the distance, stopping when there was only about half a foot between us. I watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction to my proximity. Her pulse kicked up, but she didn’t back away. “Aren’t guard and protector the same thing?”

“I don’t believe so. One is simply guarding, the other is protecting.”

My brows knitted as I looked over at her. “Again, are they not the same?”

“No.”

“Explain.” I saw that two of the chains on the top of the veil were twisted together.

“Guarding…is more passive. Protecting is proactive,” she said, a small grin appearing, one I could only describe as her being pleased with herself.

“Both require passiveness and preparedness,” I countered.

One shoulder lifted again. “Well, it’s just my opinion.”

“Clearly,” I murmured.

Penellaphe’s head tilted to the side. “I don’t believe your services are needed any longer this evening.”

“So, I am at your service?”

“Apparently not, if you’re still standing here,” she quipped.

Another laugh left me, tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I will be out of your…veil soon enough.”

“Out of my veil?” she repeated. “Shouldn’t that be out of my hair?”

“Yes, but since I can’t see your hair, I thought veil made more sense.”