“Okay. Wait. Pressyne—” Those crazy names, like my mother was in charge of naming mysterious women from the forest. “I thought Melusine was the one whose husband spied on her while she was taking a bath, but it’s Pressyne with the spying husband? I’m confused.”

Gentry scratched at his neck and his shoulders again, frowning the whole time.

“Nay,” he said, but nothing else. I felt like I’d screwed up the whole thing, the story and him being there with me. Like I’d peeked through the keyhole at him taking a bath. I wished we could go back to the part where he was laughing at his own jokes.

CHAPTER 25

Gentry

   I promised to scratch your back while you told me a story. Come lie down,” Lady Zhorzha said.

By such enticement she drew me on, but I withstood. Upon my knees, beside the pallet I made for her, I was reminded of my proper place. When she saw I would not lie with her, she rose before me, her hair about her like a cloak, and reached for me with her dragon’s talons. I meant to take no more than was offered, but she scoured my shoulders in slow circles so that I lost the thread of my tale. I gained upon her til my brow rested against her belly, and all that lay between us was the cloth of her chemise. Soon, twixt her flesh and mine, there was kindred warmth. I breathed upon her and breathed her in. She smelled of darkness and cool water and full sun all at once.

“Why don’t you put out that light and come to bed?” she said.

“Nay, I shall keep the watch this night.”

“So you liked kissing me, but you don’t want to sleep with me?”

“Wert thou only a woman, and I only a man, I would swive thee.” I drew back from her, for I would be ruled by the oath I swore to protect her, and not by my desire.

“You would what?” she said.

“Wert thou a doe and I a stag in rut, I would mount thee.” I spake plainly that she might ken me.

“Wow, Gentry. I don’t know if you’re reciting poetry or talking dirty to me. But what am I, if I’m not a woman?”

“Thou art the daughter of a dragon, and above all, thou art the lady I swore to protect and champion.”

“You think my mother’s a dragon?” She laughed in a voice that carried the truth: deep and full of smoke. With one finger, she lifted her chemise til half her thigh was bared. “Or because of this?”

“Yea, my lady, and—” I could discover no more words, for she drew her chemise higher. Tho she held me not, I was tranced.

“It’s not a dragon, you know.”

“Is it not?” My voice was thin as water.

“It’s a phoenix. Do you know what a phoenix is?”

“’Tis a token of the Resurrection.”

“It is? I just know it’s a bird that rises from the ashes and is born again. Oh! The Resurrection. That makes sense.”

Higher she raised her chemise, that I might see the feathered tail and haunch of the beast laid to bone by fire and graved in black. She turned and bared her buttock, where wings arched in flames against the white of her flesh. She turned further and the beast’s sharp-hooked beak emerged in a raging fire upon her back.

Ere she let the chemise fall, I saw the bright flame flash of hair twixt her thighs. The thing that rose in my breast was a tangled skein of bravery and lust. I pledged fealty with my lips upon the place where the fire bird’s black claw carved blood-ready into her pale skin.

Quick as ’twas done, I needed none to tell me I presumed too far.

“Forgive me,” I said.

I sat back upon my heels that I might rise and leave her, but Lady Zhorzha returned her hand to my shoulder. She slipped it into my blouse, so that skin kissed skin, her palm to my breast. My breath caught and my heart stammered, too sharp to bear. I pushed her hand away.

“Did you just parry me?” she said. She stepped back and sat herself down upon the pallet. With her hands gone from me, my heart calmed and I perceived my villainy.

“Lady, I meant no offense.”

“I’m not offended, but it’s not a sword fight. All you had to say was no. Or nay.”

“I said not nay.”

“Then what? You brought me here and fed me your food and put me in your bed. Why?”

“Little knight, she is nigh naked for thee,” said Gawen. “Thou hast seen and smelt the hair of her cunt. Lady or no, dragon or no, she offereth herself to thee.”

“Like a bitch in heat,” Hildegard said. “Thou art of no import to her. The slattern would open her legs to any man.”

“And he runneth like a frighted whelp.”

“I am no coward,” I said.

“I know you’re not,” Lady Zhorzha said, laughing.

“But I am more fitted to battle than bower. I shall go, for I would not offend thee further.”

“Wilt thou leave her to Sir Rhys? He would not retreat thus,” Gawen said. “If not afraid, art thou unable?”

“I am able.”

“Unwilling to fight leaveth a man as dead as unable to fight. Show her thou hast some fire.”

“’Tis not fire,” Hildegard said. “’Tis filthy lust. She hath no shame, and thou must have it for ye both.”

I would hear the Witch’s wisdom, but she was silent.

“Stay and finish the story,” Lady Zhorzha said. “I promise I won’t touch you again. Unless you want me to.”

“Lady, thy lips are soft and thy breath is sweet.” I longed to have her ken me, but I kenned not myself.

“I wager her cunt is soft and sweet,” Gawen said.

“Yea, and were the deed done, mayhap ’twould all turn to bitterness,” I said.

“What does Gawen say?” she said, for I could not conceal it from her.

“I care not, my lady. I would not have thee despise me.”

“Oh,” she said upon a sigh. “Like I haven’t had sex with people I despised.”

“I would not be numbered among them. Where aren they? Standen they ready to take up a sword to defend thee?”

“No, they’re long gone.”

“And when thou scorneth me, wilt thou allow me to stay? I think thou wilt send me from thee.”

“What if I promised not to send you away?”

“Wilt thou? Swear such a vow?”

“Sure,” she said, tho she smiled. I knew not if ’twas in jest.