Finally, I broke it. “Well, this is going on my list of the worst nights of my life.”
Cindrissian didn’t look up. “You have a list?”
“I have a ranking system.” I managed a smirk, though it was undercut by a soft grunt of pain as he moved my leg.
“Where does this one land?”
“Somewhere between ‘had to flee a coup with a teething infant’ and ‘abducted by mercenaries with terrible tempers.’”
That made him pause. His hands stilled on the brace for half a second before he resumed, adjusting the splint with another precise movement. An emotion too small to name brushed across his features.
After a moment, I tilted my head. “Where does it go on yours?”
“Well, this is up there.” Cindrissian hummed, deadpan. “Right between ‘publicly flayed in Nyxaria’ and ‘was once locked in a coffin for six days.’”
I blinked.“Was that metaphorical, or?”
“No.” He remained focused on my leg. “It was literal.”
“And the flaying?”
“Also literal.”
A slow exhale left me. “Huh.”
A long silence stretched between us.
“Well. At least now my broken leg doesn’t seem so bad.”
Cindrissian huffed a short, quiet laugh. Barely there. But real. That alone startled me more than the coffin story.
“Did you just laugh?” I gaped at him.
His expression smoothed back into blank neutrality.“No.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did.”
He finished adjusting the brace and sat back, his eyes finding mine.“You must be delirious from the pain.”
I snorted.
And gods help me, it hurt, but it was worth it.
Cindrissian rolled his shoulders. Then, without looking at me, he said, “If it makes you feel any better, I think you outrank the coffin.”
“High praise.” I grinned, bloody and exhausted.
The joke faded between us, settling into something that almost resembled comfort—even though nothing was comfortable here.
I shifted, trying to ease some of the pressure from my leg, biting back a grimace as pain lanced up the bone.
“Are you alright?” My question was quiet but genuine.
I expected deflection.Sarcasm.A sharp remark that would shut the moment down before it could even begin.
