His fingers clenched, and he wished he had Salim standing before him right now.
Jaadah handled the horrible response better than he did. She even smiled a little. “Well, I would suggest broth to start. Then perhaps some bread.” She stood, turning to face Venn. There was steel in her gaze. “I’ll have some food sent up on my way out. I’ll return soon to help with her bath.”
“Thank you.” Venn’s voice was thin but sincere. He reached into his pocket for coin—probably more than she expected, because the physician’s eyes widened. “For your services and discretion, but also for getting whatever she needs.”
The woman nodded and pocketed the coins. She looked back over her shoulder at Vera. “The innkeeper can fetch me at any time. In case you need any assistance.” The sideways look she gave Venn was a little pointed, but then she nodded gently to Vera. “Eat and rest. I’ll be back soon.”
The door fell closed as the physician left, and for the first time since their reunion, Venn was alone with Vera.
She peered across the room at him, neither of them speaking for a long moment.
His heart fractured, but he forced himself to ask, “Do you want me to go?”
She wet her lips, her voice soft as she said, “No.”
A Zennorian prayer his mother often uttered came to mind:Thank the fates for this tender mercy; it heals my wounded soul.
He didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until Vera frowned slightly. Thankfully he’d spoken in Zennorian, which she clearly didn’t understand.
He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Do you . . . want to talk about it?”
He didn’t know if he was ready to hear what she’d been through, but he needed to know everything.
He needed to know how to fix it.
She didn’t really answer him, though. “I shouldn’t have left Clare,” she whispered.
They hadn’t found her at The Knoll. They hadn’t found anything, except for the melted hunk of tin that had once been Clare’s toy soldier. A gift from her brother, destroyed and left behind—the only sign that Clare had ever been there.
This is my fault.
That’s what Vera had said. Then she’d swayed on her feet, and Venn had swept her into his arms and carried her out.
Wilf was a fates-blasted mess at having missed Clare so narrowly. Venn wasn’t much better. Clare was his friend, and he was desperate to save her; perhaps even more so because Bennick—his best friend—was obviously completely in love with her. While Bennick lay unconscious, fighting for his life, Venn had promised he would save Clare. The only thing that made him feel a little less raw at having failed to recover her today was that Vera was safe.
He didn’t know how he’d heard her voice in that crowded square, but he thanked the fates he had. Seeing her—even dirty, bruised, and crying—had filled some of the cracks in his broken heart.She was alive.
And he was with her. She may never love him as he loved her, but as long as she was safe, he could learn to live with anything else.
Vera’s soft voice brought him back to the room. “I should be with her right now. Who knows how Salim will punish her . . .”
Venn had been striving to keep his distance. He didn’t want to crowd her, or overstep the boundary she’d clearly outlined in Wexon. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from embracing her in the square; he’d needed to wrap himself around her. It was the only way to assure himself she was real. She’d allowed that—even held him in return—and she’d let him hold her hand and carry her, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think it would last.
He didn’t know if he could survive if she ordered him away again.
But when Vera started to cry, his resolution to stay across the room snapped.
He was beside her in an instant, sitting on the edge of the bed with his arm wrapped around her vibrating shoulders. Her head tipped to rest against his chest, just under his shoulder. She fit perfectly against him, and it made his heart ache.
“Salim is a demon,” Vera croaked through her soft tears. “He hurt us when there was no reason—what will he do now to punish her? The first time she attacked him, he poured salt water over our bleeding wrists.”
The pain in her voice slayed him.
The words themselves made him want to slay someone else.
He tightened his hold, keeping his voice low. “I’m so sorry, Vera.”
She sank against him, her tears coming faster. And then she simply had nothing more to give. She fell asleep, tears still sliding down her gaunt cheeks. He gently laid her on the bed and settled a thin blanket over her. He would wake her when food arrived, but only then.
