“Gilla caught herself before she reached for her sword. The Storyteller’s green eyes were hard as he stared at her. “Kissed,” she said carefully. “Putting your lips on another’s. You know?” She held the gold coin where he could see it and remember that she held his token. “I know ‘kiss,’ ” Ezren snapped at her. “When is this supposed to have happened?” He turned his head, his body stiff in the saddle. “After you killed the warrior-priest.” Gilla urged her horse closer to his. “You collapsed. Eld...er Thea Haya moved to kill you—” The Storyteller stopped his horse, staring straight ahead. “Bethral met her blade,” Gilla continued. “Then Haya backed away. Bethral threw herself down on the ground next to you. She looked frantic. Then she—her face filled with joy, and she kissed you.” The Storyteller was still and silent. “I’ve never seen a kiss like that,” Gilla said carefully. “I just . . .” Her voice trailed off as she struggled for the right words.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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