Paladin's Prize (Age of Heroes, Book 1) by Gaelen Foley Page A

you’ve made up your mind to return to the city.”
    “Yes.”
    “Very well. I’m coming with you,” she informed him, and pivoted to start gathering her things for their departure in the morning.
    “Er, my lady, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
    “Too bad!” She spun around and glared at him. “I went to a lot of trouble to save your life! I’m not going to stand by and do nothing while you go and throw it away.”
    He tilted his head with a droll expression. “Give me a little credit, Wrynne. I’m not a fool.”
    “You give others too much credit! Thaydor.” She took a step toward him. “You’re so good and fair-minded yourself that you can’t fathom those you consider allies being wicked. But they are. I feel it in my bones.”
    “I’m not naive,” he said, bristling a bit. “I simply choose not to cast people down without facts, without proof. You cannot come with me, demoiselle. I am sorry.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why not?”
    “Because.” He stared at her.
    “Because why ?” she demanded, exasperated. “Are you finally admitting it is dangerous?”
    “No, it’s not that.”
    “Well?”
    His cheeks flushed. “Are you going to make me say it?”
    “Say what?” she exclaimed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can do as I please, anyway. If I want to come with you, then I shall. You have no authority over me.”
    “Actually, I do—in the hierarchy of the church, anyway.”
    “Oh, pulling rank on me, Paladin? Very nice.”
    He shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s for your own good. Besides, your people need you here.”
    “And what of the will of Ilios, hmm? Maybe He prefers that I go with you. To protect you!”
    His eyebrows rose slowly. He couldn’t hide the grin that crept across his face. “Protect me ?”
    She nearly stamped her foot in vexation. “Well, you have to sleep sometime! I could keep watch. You have no squire now. How will you even put on your armor to fight?”
    “If you haven’t noticed, dear lady, my traveling companions have a tendency to die. Besides, you don’t know the first thing about squiring for a knight. You can barely lift my weapons, and I doubt you know the proper way of putting armor on a man.”
    “Well, I took it off you handily enough,” she shot back.
    His blue eyes flared at this bold reminder of how she had undressed him. Then he looked away and suddenly seemed to lose his train of thought.
    Wrynne folded her arms across her chest. A pleased little humph escaped her.
    He shook his head as if to clear it. “So where do you keep the kindling?”
    “I told you, never mind. I can make the fire. Why don’t you see to your horse?”
    He looked at Avalanche as though he had forgotten all about him. With a terse nod, he got to work unsaddling his steed. Wrynne remained a moment longer, watching him in dismay.
    “I don’t understand,” she said at length. “Am I such dull company? Because I thought it was rather pleasant today, the two of us working together.”
    He sent her a piercing glance as he set the saddle down. “That’s the problem. Because contrary to rumor, my lady, I am not a saint.”
    Wrynne blinked, finally grasping the source of his objections. “Oh,” she said in a slightly strangled tone. “I see.”
    “Do you?” he taunted in a low tone, eyeing her in a most un-paladin-like way, just to make the point. As if she didn’t realize he was very much a man.
    She looked away, cheeks burning. It suddenly seemed prudent to stop arguing.
    “I’ll go make supper,” she mumbled, but as she hurried off, she felt his eyes on her body all the way to the fire pit that lay between her bower and the stream.
    Unnerved, she kept her back to him as she fetched some dry kindling out of the tinderbox and tucked it under a couple of small logs in the fire pit. She fumbled with the flint, hands trembling after his blunt admission.
    As she tried to strike a spark, he suddenly appeared beside her, startling