I stepped down from the rampart, my boots echoing on the stone stairs. Anastasia followed half a pace behind, close enough that I could feel the heat of her presence, far enough that anyone watching would see only a general following her commander.
The evening patrols were changing shift below, fresh soldiers climbing to take their positions, exhausted ones descending with hollow eyes and blood-stained uniforms. They saluted as I passed, their gazes lingering on Anastasia almost as much as on me.
She didn't seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn't care.
"You've been watching me," I said quietly, not looking at her.
"Of course I have. You're the duke."
"That's not what I meant."
[Lust Sense]
I checked to see what she was feeling, but there wasn't much I could gather from her. At least, nothing important.
Her emotions were a tangled mix of everything, including the one I needed most.
Affection.
