“I can go out tomorrow to look for more supplies,” Saipha offers. “I doubt they’ll be restocking the bags, so we’ll want to get as many as we can upfront.”
“Good idea,” I agree. Before I can tell her my theory on where they’ve been hidden, Saipha continues.
“And I can check in any dragon-focused areas, since Isola freezes at the sight of them, and make sure nothing is hidden in those spots—like they did with the keys,” she says and stands.
Her words land like a punch to the gut, and my theory is lost. I glance to the window at the far end of the room. Even if Saipha didn’t mean to wound me with the remark, my eyes sting.I’ve been doing better, I want to object. I stood up to that dragon on the rooftop, after all.
“Sounds good,” I murmur instead. I’ll tell her about the caches being in high places in the morning.
Saipha yawns. “Anyone object to me taking that space?” She points to the interior workshop. Lucan and I both shake our heads, and she shuffles to the room, shutting the door behind her.
Lucan and I are left alone, side by side at the table. Suddenly, the whole room feels much smaller. He’s close enough that I can hear him slowly inhale, gathering air like Etherlight. I find myself breathing in time with him.
“Don’t let what she said bother you,” Lucan says quietly. “You’re perfectly capable of hunting for resources.”
“It’s true that I’m lacking in some areas.” I drag my nail along the ridge at the table’s edge, picking out remnants of long-forgotten dust.
“Not as much as you think.”
My attention returns to his, and I settle my chin in my palm, studying him. “Careful, Lucan, or you might give me an inflated ego.”
“Inflating the ego of the woman who’s hailed as Valor Reborn? Impossible. Your ego is already as big as it gets.” His eyes flash with amusement in the evening sunbeams cutting through the slim window.
I laugh. “Now that’s how I’m sure you don’t know anything about me.” The words are hollow now. More like a playful echo of things that I once meant.
“I’d like to think I know much more than you give me credit for.” He sounds genuinely offended. Somehow it makes him even more endearing that he missed my joking.
I play along. “Oh?”
“Yes,” he insists.
“Like what?”
Lucan leans forward, and somehow, an already small room isnow breathlessly tight. The joking leaves me, and in its place is nothing but coiled tension. He’s been this close to me before, but it feels…different now. He feels like a man I’ve never met.
Someone I’m not certain I can trust myself around.
50
“I’ve learned that you’re quite clever.” Lucan answers my question.
“That’s obvious to anyone remotely paying attention.” I allow myself to be a bit arrogant for the sake of provoking him. The brief narrowing of his eyes makes it worth it.
“You’re actually a really good shot with a crossbow.”
“I’m offended by the use of ‘actually.’” I inspect my nails.
He laughs softly. “Youactuallyhave a bit of a sweet tooth.”
“Guilty.”
“You have a complicated relationship with your father.”
I sit up straighter, muscles tensing, surprised he’d noticed such a personal thing. “What makes you think I have a ‘complicated’ relationship with my father?” The last time we spoke was good. But, before that, Lucan’s right.
Lucan shrugs. “You love him, and he loves you. That isn’t in question, but I think beyond that, it’s complicated.”
“You could say that about a lot of people.” I pull away, leaning back in my chair and catching my breath in the space I’ve reclaimed from him.
