“You’re a good sailor, and Captain Gostol said he’d take you on board any time you wanted to lend a hand.”
“I’ll sail again, any time, with you,” he said, grinning down at her and, daringly, caught her hand in his, squeezing it a trifle and eager to see her reaction to such a familiarity.
She squeezed right back. “I can’t wait to get clean,” she exclaimed and raced up the steps to the Hold so he had to follow with more haste than dignity.
In fact, she seemed intent on leaving him behind as she careened
into the hall and then around to the first flight of steps. They had two more to go before they were on their level. She was half a step ahead of him as they reached the top landing, breathless with laughter and the climb. She turned, grinning at her success and he paused on the next-to-last step – their faces on a level. He didn’t think – he just caught her about the waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her.
He hadn’t known he was going to before he did, and as she leaned into him, arms about his neck, he was thrilled that she didn’t reject him. It was the sweetest of kisses but far too short because, hearing steps coming down one of the halls, they broke apart. Kasia whirled, flashing him a brilliant smile, and dashed off to her apartment, leaving him more breathless than ever but surely the happiest man in the Hold at that moment.
All during his bath, which he was half tempted to shorten so that he could search Kasia out that much sooner, he fantasized about their possible future together. After all, a journeyman harper who was going for his Mastery was a good match to make, even for a Holder’s Blood. And his father had Telgar Blood. They couldn’t fault his mother’s achievements as a MasterSinger. He could always make instruments for extra marks. His contract with Tilek Hold was fair enough for a single man; he felt he could rely on Lord Melongel’s basic sense of fair play to make an adjustment for an espoused, especially one espoused to kin. He could finish his contract here, and make certain his next one improved enough to support a spouse.
Since Kasia was Blood kin to the Lady Holder, they could expect to receive larger quarters for an espoused pair, and there were rooms available. He chided himself for such thoughts on the one hand and, on the other, relished the joy of having them.
Since he suspected Kasia would take her time bathing off the brine and fish oils, he forced himself to be as thorough. The colour of the water and the thin slick of oil suggested that he was wise to soak. His hands stung a bit from the soap-sand, and he’d several broken nails as well as various scrapes and nicks. Nothing that wouldn’t heal. Salt water was good to clean wounds, even tittle ones.
So he tended to his appearance and nails as he dressed in clean, warm clothes. He must see about getting some new things. These were all old: serviceable, but not exactly stylish. Clostan, the Hold’s healer, was always so well turned out that he might ask the man which tailor he used in Tillek. Clean at last, Robinton became conscious of the
reek from the carisak of dirty clothing. He’d take it down to the washroom himself rather than have it contaminate his quarters. After all, maybe Kasia… and he cut short that delightful thought, although the prospect might be possible.
He was apologizing to the old auntie in charge of the laundry drudges for the state of his clothes and she was grinning toothlessly up at him, when light steps on the stairs alerted him to Kasia’s arrival with her bundle. Their eyes met, and he was sure he was blushing at the intensity of her gaze. That her cheeks reddened, too, was an excellent sign.
“Juvana wants to hear how we fared, Robinton,” Kasia said, almost formal in manner. She passed over her clothing to the auntie, all too casual, and the woman’s grin broadened as she looked from one to the other.