ASTRAIA WOKE TO THE SOUND of a light knock on her door.
She glanced outside the window of her room and noticed the sun had barely risen. Her eyes fell to the chair, which was empty.
A loud huff escaped her lips. She swung her legs over the bed, toes grazing the cold floorboards—only to hear another knock.
“Since when do you knock?” she barked, flinging open the door.
Only to find a short young girl standing in her doorway, holding a wrapped parcel and visibly trembling with fear.
“Oh,” Astraia said, surprised. “I’m sorry, I thought you were…someone else.”
“So sorry, miss. I didn't mean to disturb you,” she squeaked. “Your companion asked us to launder these and return them to you by morning.” She offered Astraia the parcel, keeping her eyes lowered.
“Oh. Umm. Thank you.” Astraia took the package from her outstretched hands.
The girl curtsied and scurried down the hall.
Closing the door, Astraia unwrapped the parcel to find her clothes were freshly cleaned, including her navy cloak.
A smile ghosted her lips. It was such a small gesture, perhaps one others would overlook. But to her, it was the most kindness she had been shown in years.
A few minutes later, she was dressed in her white tunic and black leathers. She strapped her Celestial dagger to her thigh. She had kept Draven’s shirt tucked away in her satchel, not sure if it would be worse to keep it or more mortifying to return it. Slinging her Starwood bow across her back with her quiver, she made for the door.
Hesitating, she grasped the doorknob and turned, shocked to find it unlocked. Either the bounty hunter intended for her to leave, or he had forgotten to lock it. She very much doubted it was the latter.
The Capri Inn was already buzzing with morning guests. The smell of fresh bread and tea floated through the air, and Astraia found herself salivating by the time she sunk into one of the chairs at a free table.
An older woman with flour covering her apron brought her some cakes and hot tea as Astraia surveyed the room.
She spotted the same two brawny men wearing furs sitting at another table, conversing in hushed voices. A few other men lumbered through the inn doors, appearing to be fishermen with the looks of their damp clothes and smell of fish and briny water wafting from them.
Taking a sip of her tea, her attention fell to another man leaning against the bar. Dark unkempt hair and darker eyes. A sword flashed under his traveling cloak. He was laughing atsomething the innkeeper had said when his head turned and his eyes met hers, dark gray and mesmerizing.
Astraia held his gaze for a few moments, before returning to her tea and ignoring the redness she could feel creeping up her neck.
A cough sounded beside her, startling her.
The dark-eyed man stood in front of her table, more attractive than he had appeared from a distance. His hand rested on his sword.
“I don’t suppose you would mind if I joined you?” He smiled and began to pull out the chair next to her.
A wave of desert heat bloomed in her core, and her bond erupted from her spine in recognition.
“Actually, she does,” a husky, low voice growled. Draven’s hand gripped the dark-eyed man’s wrist holding onto the chair.
The man grimaced, wide-eyed at the sight of the enormous bounty hunter. “Apologies.”
Draven clenched his arm tighter, his knuckles whitening, then shoved the man’s hand away.
The man rubbed his arm and retreated without a word, leaving the inn entirely.
“What was that?” Astraia demanded, eyes narrowed at him.
“Nothing. I didn’t like him,” Draven replied flatly and sat down next to her, signaling the innkeeper for tea.
“You don’t even know him.” She huffed, irritation coating her tongue.
“I don’t need to,” he said, voice low and tone more serious.
