Again, her reaction escaped my notice. I was far to busy casting about the room quickly to be sure it was presentable . . . which, of course, it was. If nothing else, the maid service in the castle was stellar.
And she was there . . . standing in my room, as lovely and winsome as I remembered.
“Uh … Hi, Luanna,” I said, suddenly at a loss for words.
“Skeeve,” she said in that soft, low voice that seemed to make the simplest statements an exercise in eloquence.
We looked at each other in silence for a few moments.
Then, suddenly, it occurred to me that the last time we saw each other, she had left in a huff under the misapprehension that I was married and had a kid.
“About the last …” I began.
“I’m sorry about . . .” she stated simultaneously.
We both broke off abruptly, then looked at each other and laughed.
“Okay. You first,” I said finally, with a half bow.
“I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted the last time we were together. What I heard later from the rumor mill at the Bazaar convinced me that things weren’t what they seemed at the time, and I felt terrible about not having given you a chance to explain. I should have looked you up sooner to say how sorry I was, but I wasn’t sure you’d even want to talk to me again. I … I only hope you can forgive me . . . even though there’s no real reason you should …”
Her voice trailed off as she dropped her eyes.
Looking the way she did, so demure, so defenseless, I could have forgiven her for being a mass murderess, much less for any minor misunderstanding between us.