I have heard that you have been engaged in certain activities which take up much emotion and thought. Forgive me for being so involved in your recent states but it is for your protection. I hear that your have been interacting with a certain man, to be more direct, a Spanish man. It hurts me to think that possibly your stay there has been forced, or that you are staying by your own choice. I worry only now, that this might ruin or help my plans if the second reason is accurate. In case you fail me, I regret to say no more than needed, and I feel further explanation is best in person.

Here it is.

I have men in the city who provide me enough to feel aspired, but I am in need of one joker. If I managed to make it to the walls without being seen, possibly I could save the city from starvation. To enter though, I am in need of your safety. I have heard of your imprisonment under Spanish housing, and the need for you to be safe to me is indescribable. If you are left as you are in their hands, when I arrive at the wall they are sure to do worse things to you than imaginable, and I cannot let anyone, especially you, be harmed further. The reason I chose you is because of our relation, which if you knew more of, you would be inspired to believe me, and also because I know you want Leyden safe too. In case this letter got into the wrong hands however, I cannot provide this detail.

What you must do for me is, until the date I set, bury any relation or affections you have for your Spaniard. Be persuasive and let him be your pawn instead of your partner. You will win if you play my moves accurately. Act with him, and lure him into helping you. Use him. Get him to take guard next evening and leave him close to the lookout wall. Now, for you, meet my men that same night in the market when it is empty. They will direct you and help you to understand your position, and will keep you safe until my arrival. I, unfortunately, may not see you until our victory.

If you do not consent to my approach, I am sorry to tell you that I have given orders to my men that you must accept. My men have instructions to make this clear to you, and harm may come to your Spaniard, which I would not want happening to anyone before you. So, I must urge you to concede.

Silent P.S. Be sure to do as you are told exactly else you may be lost, or worse, our city is lost.

I am unsure of how to move. I feel Nadejes gaze on me and grow shakier than before. I have to draw my eyes from the page as I look away. No thoughts of giddiness are in me now. What relations have I to a Silent? I feel a prickly feeling inside me at the name, but I cannot remember from where I have heard it after the past few weeks.

I feel cold and my heart is pounding guiltilyis it guilt? What does Nadeje think of me? I slowly look up from the letter then to Nadeje. He looks calm still, but there is something rigid about his posture. Is he upset with me? I feel my stomach churn. Does he not trust me?

Nadeje.

He looks to me and his eyes are serious but still calm. You know him?

I swallow. I I shake my head. No.

He sighs. Do you understand it?

I shake my head. Icanbut why I am chosen is unclear to me.

He swallows. You belong to him?

I look up at him confused. Who?

He stares at me without any real expression. To him.

I frown then realize he spoke of the letter. I dont even know who he is.

He looks down. Should I suppose you arent truthful?

I watch him. No.

For once his calm is more unsettling than if he were angry.

He looks up at me and his brow furrows. Then why He sighs and closes his eyes. Lyra, Leyden is under Spanish arrest. If you were caught being of service to other people I shake my head. I told you I dont even know him He looks at me. It doesnt mean you wont try.

I watch him.

His face is tired. I know you, Lyra.

I glance away and try to think of the truth. Would I? I look up at him.

Do you? I inquire.

He watches me silently.

If you do, I dont know you.

He sighs. Miss Thimlet, the letter is for you, and it is your choice. I wish it were otherwise, but that is something I cannot help.

I swallow. I am female. My every choice is vulnerable to men.

He watches me. It is your choice still.

I feel his words sink in. I dont want it to be.

He sighs. Lyra, I am not able to stop your life. It is yours.

I search his abysmal eyes. Youyou could. I feel my voice is shaking.

His eyes close. I feel like he has just shut doors in my face, blocking out the rest of the world. I cannot assist you in ways against my fellow soldiers He stops. Ms. Thimlet, that letter could I half-want the rest. Could?

He stands suddenly. I care enough to let you choose without meI have an event to tend to I feel my body grow stiff. Nadeje Im sorryplease, I cant seem to He shakes his head. I will be back soonI promise.

He strides passed. I feel all the blood rush to my head and cant move.

I am your responsibility I hear him stop in his tracks.

You could lose your position if I say it as I realize the decision he is making, and that once again, it is all for me.

He does not turn. It is my rank and my choices, just as I give you yours, you must let me to mine.

I feel my throat tighten. Last night hed devoted himself to my protection, he had adored me, held me against him until I was ready to let him gobut now this?

He moves again. I hear him murmuring in Spanish and cant find words to protest. Then, he opens the door and steps out. The door closes. I am left alone. I swallow hard and feel shaken.

This time, I had not been ready to let go.

Chapter 21.

I wait until sunset to begin to feel frightened. Ive held it back all day, but now that it is night I feel too weak to defend myself alone if they came.

I eat alone, and after feeling too exposed in the kitchen I migrate to my room, holding one of the few poetry books Nadeje had on his shelf, hidden behind maps. I close the door and then step quickly to dress into my nightgown. His sisters nightgown he is lending me. I feel cold prickle my skin as I slip the fabric over my kirtle and bodice, not bothering to take it off in the middle of the lonely hut.

I decided to stay. It took at least all afternoon to determine this and decide upon it. I thought of how I would be sold into unknown hands for service, and not even knowing the man who wrote it, of how I feel insecure with no promise of any harm coming to meand then there was Nadeje.

I thought deeply over his tender and lenient touches, his warmth and truthful purpose, and his gentle handling of me. I thought over it all, the honesty being shown in his every contact with me. I tremble and try not to think of it. Admitting it is difficult and hazardous, but this was my main reason for not leaving, it was that behind every feeling, sensation, or emotion he caused, there was always that one pull inside me that made me feel connected. It was security, the trust and equality which he treated me with since the very beginning.

I get into bed and prop myself up against the pillows as I light my bedside candle. I curl up and pull the covers to my chest and open to the page in the book where Id left off; distracting myself from waiting. Harm may come to you and your Spaniard. I feel tingles run up my arms and try to concentrate on the page. Images flash out in my brain of men, armed men, and harm coming toI look away from the book, regaining my composure.

What if they come? I turn back to the page and read on. What if they know I am not coming and they enter while I am alone? I curl up further, feeling surrounded by invisible dangers. I listen acutely, causing me to have to read some sentences over and over again, some at least three times. Where is he?

Suddenly I hear it, a sound outside. It is the footfalls of someone stepping over the road. I stop, staring at one word on the page. I listen as the feet shuffle slightly over the dirt then discontinue. I dont breathe. I listen harder. Why had they stopped?

There is the click of someone working with a lock.

I am paralyzed, I cannot move or think. There is the sound of the front door opening. For some reason this jolts me. I drop my book and move to blow out my candle. In a small breath the room is flushed into darkness. I can hardly see as I feel myself moving. I dont know how it happens, but I find myself on the ground beside my bed, my back to the wall as I hug my knees to my chest. I wait as my eyes grow accustomed to the pale silvery moonlight outside my room. The door handle turns.

The door opens and my heart falls two feet in my chest. Shadows move in the light, and then I feel my breath release. It is only one, which means the barely lit figure in the doorway is Nadeje. I relax inside, but still remain curled up and tense. I dont know how he sees me, but after at most 10 seconds of watching him, he quietly starts in my direction.

I watch his steps not sure of how to think or act. Should I stand? Should I remain and just speak? Should I run? I remain.

When he is a foot or two away from me he stops and crouches before me. In only a glimpse of his shadowy silver face, I feel a flush of hot relief as he swiftly inclines and I am enveloped by his embrace. He pulls me close, my face buried in his chest. I feel his head press against my neck and my heart wavers as he burrows his face in my skin. I sink into it, breathing in the cold air on his clothes and little by little blossoming into his warmth. I slacken and exhaustedly rest against his solid figure. I absorb every bit of soothing warmth I can as he wraps me in. Release spreads as he cloaks me with his body, protecting me from the darkness in the room and shielding me from the invisible dangers.

Lyra, he breathes.

I feel myself weaken to his relief and care. He breathes something else, but I cannot make it out for he speaks in a Spanish murmur into my neck.

Im sorry, he says it softly. Ms. Thimlet, Im so sorry.

I move my hands up his chest to find a place to put them and pause at the unexpected warmth of his neck.

He feels it and seems to grow more protective than before. You are cold. He says it half to himself. What are you doing on the floor?

I am not sure if it is a question I am supposed to answer, for he half speaks to me, and half to himself, but little does it matter for soon he is gathering me with his arms, cradling me and lifting my cold feet from the floor and into his lap. I am grateful, but I also need him to remember the risks of this place.

Nadeje, I say faintly.

He nuzzles me and pleasurably snuggles into my neck.

Mr. Gilch I try to say it, but I lack words. What would you doifwhat if they come?

He draws back a little to observe my face. I know some routes, he assures gently. They run through the citymost guards dont bother taking patrol therewe will be fine if you let me He watches me a moment. Let me protect you.

I search his eyes. Im scared.

He observes me calmly. No matter what happens you will be taken care of. Destiny isnt just immediate future, it is the interminable.

I find it hard to breathe as his eyes remain on my face. Our futures wont meet againwill they?

He watches me. You confuse me with your inconsistency in manner of subject.

I blush but do not look away, and manage not to shy. I mean that youll go back to Spain after He waits, his eyes shining in the silvery light. It isnt rightallowedfor us to I feel the presence of his arms around me and resentment to my own words. To interact in certain manners of Lyra Thimlet, his voice is soft, gentle.

It rests my mouth. I am thankful.

He watches me. Do you mean companionship?

I feel my heart race and my face pale. Nadeje I can feel his pulse through his neck, it is calm. Youwe couldntyoure Spanish, Im Dutchwe never could I feel my chest tighten.

He watches me with a painful face. Lyra.

I shake my head. We are being disobedient now Lyra I feel my heart sink and look to his throat. Nadeje Suddenly, he traps me against him. I breathe, feeling each breath enter sharply with difficulty, yet the more I breathe the more the pain eases. His head presses mildly against the place behind my ear. My mind closes the door to undesirable thoughts. Then, there is a gentle pressure against my neck. I realize Nadeje is kissing me. I feel my world tip and the darkness around us envelopes me. His breath is soft and beats gently against my skin. I feel like I am choking. I cant breathe til the moment when he carefully lifts his lips from my skin. He remains hovering but slowly nuzzles his head back against me and puts his lips right above my ear. It is warm across my neck.

Then, his voice is soft, almost a whisper. The definition of love I freeze in his arms.

Is never the same.

I feel heat flood in through my ears and to my pulsing heart with a little relief.

He curls his head closer to my shoulder. There are many types of love, his breaths gust out against my neck and chill my skin. He turns so that his nose brushes my ear. Most try to classify it as but one, he exhales lightly through his nose. I say opposite, he skims his nose against my neck. One could speculate it as the opposite of hatecare or infatuation He hovers leaving me paralyzed with his absence of movement. Amor I suppose it to be Spanish. Amor is nothing of one meaning.

There is the love, unconditional lovebetween usually a moeder and a child, or a brother and a sister His voice is vibrating gently. There are loves of attractionfascination by another beings looks or ways He nuzzles his face into my neck and I have to make myself not flinch from the influence of his words. Love which lies between distance and visits but does not remain long is without promise He pauses. There are othersof dedication, faith, religious strengthand none but of course love for something you feel for no particular reason. It is quiet again before he continues. Unfortunately, there is a love which begins with hate, disregard, or fearI call it transformational love, he lifts his face a little, hovering above my neck. I once thought perhapsit was hopeful you were acquainted with it.

I understand.

I feel him turn his head closer to mine, waiting patiently for something to happen.

Ms. Thimlet, let me not demonstrate love, it being of great diversity, he pauses. Permit me instead to express my sentiments and inclinations for you.

My heart gallops off without my leave of it. I remain burrowed against him, in no mentality to meet him in any way with a response or answers to his hidden questions. I brace myself as his words register and I squeeze my eyes closed.

I feel him nuzzle me lightly. My neck flushes at the presence of his lips against my skin. I lose whatever sturdiness I had left and tremble as my body weakens. I rely on him to stable me, and support me if I lose all consciousness. Then, he ventures further. I feel his lips begin to gently move over the surface of my neck. I almost lose it completely, but I manage to keep from squeaking out in surprise. He starts to move up my neck. I lose it here. I whimper a little into his shoulder and grow warm all over. It grows cold where his lips leave behind, and at least twice I feel shivery from it. He slowly tips his head and wanders up to the place just below my ear and gives a gentle pressure. I let myself shift a little at this, curling closer and letting out a small breath.

He soothingly begins to make his way back down, brushing his lips across some places and remaining, transfixing me, in others. I hesitantly move my hands up to the base of his neck and feel my occasional movement dawn on him. I bury my face further into his warmth and feel the heat of his skin through my fingers.

He kisses me deeply, without movement, then he slowly peels his lips away from my skin. He is silent, but soon nuzzles close and rests his head against mine. I feel his breaths softly blow over my skin and force back a want to snuggle closer and avoid the queasiness which comes from this feeling. I dont let go, but I also dont cling to him. I cant, in fear of becoming too attached. I remain comforted by his hold. After a while like this, he lifts it off and turns his face to the side of my neck. I feel him skim his nose against my ear as he turns.

Have I strayed too far? He voice is humming right up against my ear.

I cannot ignore it. I cannot though, find words to answer his question.

Lyra? He tries. He waits. Have I hurt you?

I hesitantly shake my head.

He sounds softer. You are avoiding me.

I am silent, but press closer.

I feel the warmth of his face linger along my neck and ear. You are frightened, he guesses. I have been too fast He apologizes. PleaseI know I am too soft He lays his head against mine.

I want to tell him noor yesbut I have been stolen of speech by his expressions.

My softness is how I lost my sister He speaks this close to my ear. I am too ignorant of reality I peek up and find the arch of his neck. Youre protective, I protest gently.

He nuzzles me. Leifde, it is a soft sigh, lightly spoken to me.