Reeve recoiled but snorted. “If he did, he would have a good reason.”
“What about the temple of some other god? Would you burn down the homes of those who belonged to it? Murder the people who believed in something different from you?”
He sneered at her as if it were so outrageous. As if it hadn’t happened. As if she hadn’t seen it.
“And what about stealing away their children? Imprisoning them in your temple? Experimenting on them?”
The knight remained momentarily mute, no doubt in the name of his god. She waited, watching him grasp for an answer from Empyrea until he shook his head. “I don’t think Valcord would request—”
“But you don’t think, you do, you said it yourself! You follow your god’s will even if it means locking away children that you call monsters for the very things you did to them!” Celeste was standing, though she didn’t remember coming to her feet. Her chest was so frozen it burned, and when she pressed her hand to her heart, the locket thumped back like an animal clawing at the bars to its cage.
Her next words caught in her throat as she clamped a hand over her mouth, and she fell back into the chair. Tears pricked at her eyes, body frigid. She had never—never—shouted at someone like this.
What is wrong with me?Celeste held her breath, held everything, as she willed the noxscura that hammered at her skin to stay put. Eyes shut, she focused on the pain in her thigh, the pain that was real.
“I would not do those things.” Reeve’s soft voice broke through the icy pall that had trapped her in her own thoughts.
There was still a brief inkling inside, one that wanted to shout back that hehadbeen cruel to her, he threatened her, hurt her, still planned to kill her, but when she opened her eyes again, she saw the absolute look of sincerity on his face, and it struck her like a falling hammer. “You wouldn’t, would you?”
He was shaking his head, brows drawn together, hands splayed out and empty. There had never been a time in her life when she felt safe enough to scream at someone, and for gods knew what reason, she had chosen now and chosen this man to risk the retribution that would surely come from daring to raise her voice at a holy knight.
But Reeve wouldn’t even shout back. He simply sat there and took it, looking to be at as much of a loss as how she had always felt.
Celeste shook her head as a wave of exhaustion swept over her. “You’ve been awfully quiet about all of this,” she said to the sword propped against the arm of the chair.
“Why would I interrupt?” quipped the sword. “You could cut the tension in here with a me.”
Celeste rubbed at her eyes, the heat that flooded her face still awful but was at least better than the cold that had been threatening to freeze her heart completely. “Oh, your horse!”
The knight glanced about the temple as if the giant creature would suddenly gallop through, then snorted. “He was being well taken care of. I think he will, uh…forgive my broken vow and won’t lament another bucket of fruit scraps and a night in the warmth of the stables.” There was weariness in his voice as he glanced up into the darkened ceiling of the temple.
“We’ll collect him tomorrow,” she insisted, clearing the emotion from her voice. “That is, if you intend to sleep here?”
His mouth opened, eyes flicking over to the stairs then back. “You need an eye kept on you.”
He only means he’ll kill you if you make a wrong move. She really didn’t want anyone’s eyes on her, even ones that were so warm, but it would make things easier if he stayed. “Is the chamber upstairs still suitable?”
“Uh, I, well…if it…I suppose, but is that notyourchamber?”
She shook her head, then her face flushed again—gods, did he think she was suggesting they share? Did he think hehadto? And after she yelled at him? “No! I have a different chamber just down there.” She pointed vaguely to the library and its attached corridor, then tried to rub the warmth out of her face, eyeing the soot smudged on her palms. “The plumbing is in good order, so please feel free to use it, to use anything here. I suppose…I suppose it is sort of your temple.”
“This is Valcord’s house,” he said, and then looked around warily. “Well, it was.”
Celeste watched the way the knight’s face remained gentle as he took in the shattered windows, the disorderly vines, the broken reliefs carved into the columns. He could have been angry, but there was only a quiet sadness layered atop the weariness of a man who, while a holy knight, was probably a few other things too since everybody was, more or less.
Reeve turned tired eyes back to her. “You’re not going to make an attempt on my life in the middle of the night, are you?”
Celeste huffed. “Of course I won’t. You’re not going to killmein the middle of the night, are you?”
He held his hands out as if it were preposterous. “I vowed not to.”
Since he’d already had multiple chances in a very short amount of time to run her through, she simply sighed. “We will reconvene in the morning then,” she said, standing with a wince.
“Let me help you—”
“No.” Despite the pain, she straightened. “It’s actually feeling much better.” Which was a lie, but there was no point in keeping track anymore.
Celeste didn’t look back as she hobbled herself through the small study room and then into the bathing chamber at the head of the acolyte’s hall. She locked herself inside, knowing the knight would do the same upstairs.
