He jumped to his feet and ran behind the screen before she understood what was happening. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wanting to follow him, but then she heard him grunt as if in pain, and something splashed into the bath water that had gone cold.
Seraphina bit her lip in disappointment. He’d seen her unravel under the attention of his hands, and he hadn’t even been able to offer her this. She wouldn’t judge. She would forgive him. She’d be patient, because he wasn’t like the other men, and what a blessing that was.
As long as Rune wasn’t like all the other men, she could accept his fears and insecurities. His quirks.
He returned to her composed, if not a little distant. Seraphina wasn’t going to have it. What they’d done was supposed to bring them closer, not make it awkward between them. She patted the spot beside her, and when he sat down, she leaned into him, pressing her shoulder to his. It was a gesture that was more friendly than intimate, but he didn’t pull away, which was a win. She could take things slowly.
“I’ve had an idea,” she said. “Last night, as I was falling asleep.”
“Oh?”
He sounded a bit worried, which made her chuckle.
“I think I know how to fix your problem with open spaces.”
“You do?”
“I think so, but you’ll have to trust me.”
He surprised her by gently pushing against her shoulder. It was the first playful gesture he’d ever made toward her.
“I trust you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
These were the times when he left her speechless.
Close to the inn, there was a lake. Seraphina and Rune went exploring, and she discovered it by sound, while he was busy keeping his head down and counting his steps. It seemed to help ground him when the vastness of the sky threatened to crush him, and the cutting wind swirling through the trees pressed in on him from all sides. The lake was part of a marshy moorland that spread southeast of Ingolstadt where the Paar river met the Danube. Its waters were dark as iron under the early November sky.Peat had stained it the color of old blood, and the surface lay so still it might have been painted on.
Seraphina found a stretch of flat land at the edge of the forest that was damp, but not soaking. The sun had beaten down on it before retreating into the clouds, and it was a spot as good as any for what she had in mind.
“Here, lie down with me,” she said, pulling at his sleeve.
That was how they’d made it so far into the wild. Seraphina had held onto his sleeve, and he hadn’t fought her too hard when he panicked and wanted to curl into a shivering ball. The air was crisp and the trek had warmed them.
“I don’t understand your method,” he said.
“I’m trying to heal you through exposure. I’ve noticed that after you spend too much time inside, it’s harder to make yourself go out.”
Rune lay on his side, facing her. Seraphina could see his shadow wrapped tightly in his cloak. The hood covered his head, and while she’d let hers down, he didn’t follow her example.
“I don’t like this,” he said.
“I’m sorry, but I think it’s necessary. You’ll get used to it if you press on. I’m here with you. If it’s too much, you can squeeze my hand.”
He took that as an invitation and reached for the hand that she’d tucked under her chin. Seraphina laughed and entwined their fingers.
“Better?” she asked.
“No.”
There was a smile in his voice, and she would’ve rolled her eyes if she had any. That gave her a silly idea.
“Roll your eyes for me.”
“What?”
“You know, like when you describe things for me, and I feel like you’re my eyes. So, roll your eyes for me.”
