He didn’t startle outwardly quite as readily, but he knew who was there and that did concern him. The Chaldean would be discreet, there was no doubt about that, but she was also one of the few who would confront him openly over this. Still, he let his touch linger where they had fallen to Sidonie’s waist, no doubt in the process of urging her closer. It was impossible to say where this might have led; if he might have backed down eventually.
He trusted they would find out in time. To his credit, he did not seem flustered as he looked to the Chaldean, and there was nothing demure in the look he gave her. If anything, he seemed a touch annoyed, though that was certainly excusable as a natural reaction rather than proof of any plot to seduce their Queen for some political machination, as she must have suspected at least somewhat.
“The fault does not lie with you, Lady Chaldean. We hardly secured an area where privacy is to be expected.” And if anything, that was his failing. But it wasn’t as if he had planned this. Perhaps the locale of it was proof enough. This forced them both to have more time to think. To reflect. Which was something that a moment ago he had been seeking to avoid. Because it was a circular argument—he would never get anywhere. Certainly not anywhere he’d wanted to be moments before.
A blush. He hadn’t seen one of those in some time. His type of girl wasn’t the blushing sort, and his eyes lingered with a curious expression on Sidonie’s cheeks. “Which of us were you seeking out?”