Page 41 of The Noldrin Witch

Kurt seemed to take notice of the croak, for he lifted his head and looked at Elise with visible confusion.

Elise pushed the door open another inch in an attempt to squeeze out the uninvited advisor. Just then, she noticed some of the seams on her blouse had already begun to loosen. Indeed, the dress was not in a fit state to be worn. She had assembled it with rough stitches in the middle of the night and was now regretting not resisting Morgaine’s pressure more firmly.

She gave the door another firm shove, and a muffled shriek followed from behind it.

Elise quickly composed herself and cleared her throat, hoping the duke might mistake the cry for the remains of a morning voice.

“You must have come for your cape as well,” she said.

Kurt’s countenance, strong and full of the youthful vigor of manhood, softened immediately at Elise’s smile. “Of course,” he replied in a tone capable of undoing nearly any woman with functioning hearing.

Elise held her grin and, with the naturally caring gaze that had already proven dangerous enough on its own, managed to say, “Allow me to fetch it for you.”

“Invite him in!” Morgaine’s voice hissed from behind the door.

Elise gave the slightest shake of her head while maintaining her smile, but Morgaine had clearly decided subtlety had exhausted its usefulness. With one swift movement, the witch sprang from behind the door.

“Forgive her manners,” Morgaine laughed as Kurt startled. “Why don’t you come join us for breakfast?”

Morgaine might have considered herself a connoisseur of men, but what Elise witnessed seemed entirely the opposite of luring the duke in. Kurt suddenly stiffened and, likely remembering this was not the house of distressed damsels but of witches, politely retreated from the tempting invitation.

“I regret to decline the honor, madam,” he said. “But I am on my way to join the morning training. The war is beginning to make it impossible to avoid such duties.”

“And yet here you are making certain a Falaine girl remains free of trouble,” Morgaine whispered.

Even if Morgaine’s comment had been intended as teasing, the duke seemed genuinely troubled for a moment. Morgaine felt obliged to apologize, though her soft tone and complete lack of seriousness made it sound more as though she were amusing herself with the situation.

The witch decided it was best to set her point straight before she frightened the duke into fleeing altogether.

“Elise would love to take a position on the king’s magical staff. Tell me, handsome, is the vacancy still open?”

Kurt regained his composure and, returning to his seemingly natural state of helpfulness, replied, “It is, though from what I have heard, it will not remain so for long.”

Morgaine’s eyes lit with excitement, and while Elise briefly stepped inside to retrieve the cape the duke had been chivalrous enough to lend her, the witch leaned close and whispered something to him. Elise could not make out a single word of it, but upon her return, the redness creeping into Kurt’s face told her more than enough.

Elise handed back the velvety cape, and as she did, her fingers brushed against Kurt’s. He lifted his gaze to hers, and his lips parted soundlessly before he offered his farewells and hastened his step away, as though remaining any longer might become dangerous to his discipline.

“Come back whenever you wish, love!” Morgaine called after him.

Kurt turned toward the ladies at the door, though his gaze lingered only on Elise. She felt a tug at her heart at the thought that any involvement with him was likely forbidden from the start. He was clearly close to the king and all the pageantry and obligations attached to such men. Elise knew enough of that world to understand that men of rank stayed loyal to their station, firmly tied to their circles and rarely wandering beyond them, especially for a girl from the enemy side of the border.

“We make a good team,” Morgaine said. “With your demure manners and my charm, this arrangement is practically unfair to the rest of the applicants. Now that the deal is nearly settled, let me show you a little something that can keep us in communication once you are inside the castle.”

Elise turned to Morgaine. “Why not?”

Chapter 18

Before joining the training camp, Kurt decided to make a stop at the castle. The witch’s words lingered in his mind as he strode toward the fairies’ quarters.

“Elise remains entirely unclaimed by a husband. And just like the employment you mentioned, it would be wise to submit your application before the vacancy closes.”

Unwilling to behave improperly, he had hurried away from the place before better judgment could fail him entirely. Though there was very little judgment involved when it came to the beautiful stranger who had kept him distracted ever since they crossed paths at the entrance gate.

Still, Kurt had never been a man to let his feelings outrank his principles. He cared little for titles themselves, but he cared a great deal for the dignity they demanded.

The Duke of Dornheim belonged to the von Eisenwald family. Genealogy traced the origins of the house in Bromheim back to the invention of paper itself. The noble name meant “iron forest,” and for centuries the family had honored it by serving in the king’s armies as knights, usually wrapped in metal armor and usually fighting somewhere among the forests they were apparently named after.

Kurt was the sixth Duke of Dornheim. At well over six feet, he was the tallest of all the von Eisenwald men to hold the title, and if one bothered asking the women of Bromheim, they would almost unanimously agree he was the most handsome as well. Some might even have claimed he had once been blessed with charm and a romantic heart, though those qualities had suffered a noticeable decline after the terrible deception Josephine de Beaumont had inflicted upon him nearly a lustrum ago.