He muffled a laugh, pulling the needle through my wound.
I turned my head, nearly knocking it against his.
“Sit still.” He ordered.
“Sorry,” I murmured, looking ahead. “You watched me for weeks, huh? Did you learn anything interesting?”
“You have a tiny house.” He said. “You pick flowers most nights when you get home. There’s a step you trip on nearly every day, and you say the same curse. And,” He sat back, meeting my eyes. “You think an awful lot about how much you hate a man named Ainwir.”
I pursed my lips. “I can’t say I enjoy being spied on.”
“Sorry. Seraphim and I needed to be sure you were the one.”
“The one?” I chuckled. “There are plenty of con artists better than me.” Narrowing my eyes, I studied his even expression. Whyhadthey settled on me?
“Who is he?” Eleos asked. “Ainwir.”
“My teacher. I’m in debt because of him.”
“Ah. Your hatred is justified, then.” He paused his work to look into my eyes. “I know trust won’t come easily, but no one in this company will betray you. You have my word.”
“I. . . thanks.” Trust wouldn’t come easily, but it was nice to hear.
We fell into silence as he carefully patched me up. When not on the job, I rarely interacted with men. Occasionally, I found a break and visited a tavern to listen to a bard and enjoy a drink. But for all my talents with speech, sincere conversations were difficult for me, more so when the man across from me seemed a good soul.
If Eleos read my thoughts, he kept them to himself. He touched me tenderly, as though I were fragile glass that would shatter if handled too roughly. Neat little stitches closed up the ragged tear running down my arm.
“There.” Snapping the thread with his teeth, Eleos sat back. “You know, psyches can do far more than read minds. Were you never told that?”
I pursed my lips, trying to remember every inexplicable thing Ainwir had accomplished. Secretive trickster, he’d never said he was a psyche, nor informed me of what magic he could conjure.
He’d hidden everything that gave him an advantage, even from me.
“What else can you do?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Eleos responded with that little half-smile. Wiping his hands off, he closed his satchel of medical supplies.
This man was going to drive me mad long before Seraphim’s quest pushed me to my death. Racking my brain, I tried to recall something extraordinary Ainwir had done. Something that could have only been magic.
Nothing came to mind.
“We can tune emotions, too.” Eleos stood in front of me. “It’s not easy—I have to coax my target closer to my desired state before I can alter them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before, you were tense and troubled.” He knelt, gently wrapping a bandage around the wound. “But you’ve calmed down, and now. . .” Tying the bandage, he rested a hand on my arm.
Solace washed over me, like the comfort of a bath after a long, tiring day. Every limb loosened, my muscles relaxed, and my pounding headache slowly lifted.
“Ah.” I breathed. “I understand now.”
“Forgive me.” His brow knit. “You’ve lost a lot of blood and need rest.”
“No, it’s fine”, I said, tempted to lie back and close my eyes. “Thank you.”
Taking my hand, he helped me to my feet. I felt like I was floating above the clouds.
“Do you need help getting back to your room?” He asked.
