Ophelia's heart was never at ease around Killorn. He stared at her with stormy eyes that raged like ocean tides on rough waters. His sharp features were twisted into a disapproving scowl. His large shoulders were squared in apprehension, his jaws tightened enough to cut through rocks. She saw he wore his morning tunic, but they gripped his muscles, clinging onto his handsome body for he had likely returned from training his men all day.
"What are you doing all cramped up in a library?" Killorn demanded as he closed the distance between them in six long strides. She'd know—she counted.
"U-uhm…" Ophelia's throat was clenched with anxiety, as she nervously fiddled her fingers.
