Page 30 of The Last Knight (The Cursed Kingdom #5)

“Can we be friends?” she asked, though even as the words left her lips, they tasted wrong, too small for what she felt.

Gunther’s hands came up to cradle her face, his eyes fierce and tender all at once. “I want to be more than that,” he said simply.

Then, with a quiet intensity that stole her breath, he asked, “May I kiss you?”

Aubrey could only nod, her voice lost to the moment. Relief and longing washed through her as he leaned in, his lips firm and seeking, claiming hers in a kiss that said everything they hadn’t dared to speak aloud. His tongue slid against hers, slow and sure, and the world seemed to fall away.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Aubrey let out a giddy laugh. “Gunther, I missed you so much.”

A slow smile curved his lips. “Not nearly as much as I missed you.”

With a joyful sigh, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He held her tightly, and they sat like that, side by side on the bench beneath the willow, surrounded by birdsong, rustling leaves, and the occasional splash of a fish breaking the pond’s surface.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, then noticed his right arm was bare without the sling.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” she asked gently, pulling back to look at him.

He shook his head. “It’s well into healing. I just need to be cautious until it’s fully mended.”

It felt so natural being beside him like this, as if no time or trauma had ever come between them. The peace was almost surreal.

“I need to find a way to support myself,” Gunther said, threading his fingers through hers. “I can’t keep relying on your kindness.”

“You’ve got options,” Aubrey assured him. “Gavin works with horses. Padriag’s learning construction. Tristan’s a business mogul now, believe it or not. And Liam…well, he still struts around like a lord, but he helps John at the bookshop.”

Gunther didn’t answer right away. He just sat in thoughtful silence, her hand in his, as if turning over the pieces of a life that might just be beginning.

“What did you do before becoming a warrior for the king?”

Gunther peered up to the sky in thought. “I come from a line of warriors, who followed in the footsteps of their fathers, like I did. One of my brothers was a carpenter, but the rest of us, there were six of us, all fought for King Willem.”

“Unfortunately, there isn’t a need for a warrior in modern Scotland.” Aubrey smiled up at him. “What were your mother and father like?”

His lips curved. “You would think that because my father was a warrior, he was firm. But it was Mother who ruled over our home. She was formidable in a house with seven men. We were fed well, our clothes mended and clean, but she kept a strict house. Chopping wood, clearing the hearth, gardening, caring for the livestock were some of the chores and we gladly did them because she was a worthy woman.”

He sighed at the memory. “They have all been gone for a very long time and still, I often remember my family clearly.”

“I don’t have brothers and sisters. It was just my father, mother and me.

My father is from here in Linlithgow, this very house.

My mother is from a faraway land where everyone had beautiful skin in many shades of brown.

It is called Ghana.” She smiled contently.

“Both of my parents are kind to a fault. Like with your family, Mum is the one who dealt out punishments when I did wrong. She would send me to my room after supper and, when I got older, I was not allowed to visit friends after school, which was the worst since I didn’t have sisters or brothers to spend time with. ”

He studied her for a moment and smiled. “I can see you being naughty as a child.”

“How dare you sir,” Aubrey quipped, her lips trembling as she tried to keep a serious face. “Let’s figure out what you can do for a living. Tell me what you would like to learn? Name something you find fascinating.”

He scratched his jaw in thought. “I am fascinated by the instrument that catches images and freezes a moment.”

“It is called photography. Gwen’s sister, Sabrina, is a professional photographer, who earns a very good living. I am sure she can teach you.”

They continued talking for over an hour, stopping and kissing every so often, each having missed the intimacy of their past.

That evening, the kitchen was filled with the comforting scent of warm, buttery meat pies.

The golden crusts flaked at the touch of a fork, steam rising in fragrant wisps that mingled with the tang of vinaigrette from the fresh garden salad.

Erin had set the table with practiced care, candles flickering in mismatched holders that gave the room a soft, welcoming glow.

Laughter had been light, the conversation easy on the surface, at least. But beneath it all, Erin and Padriag exchanged quick glances, subtle nods, and meaningful silences as they stole glances at Aubrey and Gunther. They were trying and failing to mask their curiosity.

Aubrey, for her part, was very aware of it. She could feel Erin’s watchful gaze, and Padriag’s not-so-subtle attempts to steer the dinner talk toward ‘what a beautiful day it had been’ and ‘how nice a long walk must’ve felt.’

Gunther sat beside her, calm and composed, but every now and then, his leg brushed hers under the table. Each touch sent a ripple of heat through her, grounding and distracting her all at once.

They lingered over dinner, sipping wine, nibbling the last bites until it was very apparent that Erin and Padriag would not leave things alone until knowing what happened between her and Gunther.

Aubrey, cheeks warm from the wine, or perhaps from something deeper, lifted her glass slowly, letting it hover near her lips before she finally spoke.

“I know,” she said, voice light but certain, “you two are dying to know what happened between Gunther and me.”

Erin set her fork down, eyes wide with innocent amusement, while Padriag arched a brow and leaned in like a man awaiting scandalous gossip.

Aubrey glanced at Gunther, whose eyes met hers with such warmth it sent a shiver down her arms. There was a steadiness in his gaze now, a promise of something stronger than comfort, something real.

She turned back to their waiting friends, her voice quieter but no less sure.

“We’ve decided to explore what this is, whatwecould be.

We’re going to take it slow, see where it leads…

but we’re not ignoring it anymore.” She reached for Gunther’s hand and laced her fingers with his.

“I’ve asked him to stay. And he’s agreed. ”

For a heartbeat, the room held still.

Then Erin let out a gleeful squeal and raised her wine glass. “To love finding its way!”

Padriag grinned broadly and followed suit, lifting his glass. “About bloody time.”

Gunther, ever composed, dipped his head with a small smile, but his fingers tightened gently around Aubrey’s. She raised her glass too, heart full, and met the clinks of glass with a quiet joy blooming in her chest.

They sat together a while longer, the meal behind them, yet no one was in a hurry to leave the table. Laughter came easier now. The air felt lighter. And, as the candle flames danced and the night wore on, it felt, for the first time in a long while, that something beautiful was just beginning.

That night, Aubrey lay sprawled across the top of her comforter, the soft cotton of her tank clinging to her skin, her underwear barely offering any warmth.

The room was cool, but her body hummed with heat.

Her skin tingled, and her cheeks were flushed, not from the wine, but from where her thoughts lingered.

Her mind wouldn’t settle. Not when the man she wanted was in the room beneath hers.

She rolled onto her side with a frustrated huff, the fabric beneath her rustling as she shifted.

Her pulse quickened just imagining him, his strong hands, his steady gaze, the way he’d kissed her earlier with such raw intensity.

They’d only just begun to reconnect, to open that long-latched door between them.

Would it seem needy if she went to him now? Desperate?

But the longer she lay there, the more ridiculous the idea seemed. Shewantedhim. Maybe not even for sex, though her body certainly didn’t mind the thought, but for closeness, for comfort, for the quiet reassurance of his presence beside her. She didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.

Enough second-guessing, she told herself and swung her legs off the bed, her feet padding silently against the cool floor.

Her heart beat a little faster with every step down the stairs, her breath shallow, anticipation fluttering in her belly.

The hallway was dim, the only light spilling from the moon outside, painting silver across the walls.

When she reached his room, the room that had once been hers, she paused, her hand resting on the doorknob.

She knocked gently, her voice barely above a whisper as she eased the door open. “Gunther? Are you asleep?”

“No,” came the groggy, husky reply—his voice thick with sleep and velvet-soft. Hehadbeen asleep. Still, he sat up, eyes half-lidded, and extended a hand toward her. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Aubrey crossed the room. She slid beneath the covers, immediately enveloped in the lingering warmth of his body. The bed was cozy, the scent of him, earthy, clean, unmistakablyGunther, settling around her like a second blanket.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured as she nestled against him.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close, her back flush to his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, his lips warm against her skin. “I’m glad you came to me,” he whispered, his voice heavy with drowsy affection.

She smiled into the darkness, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing as it slowed. Within minutes, the soft sound of his snores filled the room, low, even, comforting.