“Notwashing, girl. Working the hand pump for the water. You’re in no state to do it, and I’m too old to bother trying.”
Cassia’s face flushed. Right. She supposed out here, in the wilds, they didn’t have city amenities like piping and gravity spells to pull the water up from the ground.
In that way, it was like the poor neighborhoods where Cassia and Rylan had grown up. She could manage just fine, though she hated the idea of having to ask Averin for help with something so simple as washing.
“You don’t go in anyone’s room uninvited; we all like our privacy. And if you wander outside the house, keep clear of the coop. Our dragons don’t take kindly to strangers near their hoard. Any questions?” Gramma Prisca asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“Gramma Prisca,” came the quick reminder. “Now get some rest, girl. Someone’ll grab you when dinner rolls around.”
“Thank you.” The thought of dinner here made her shudder internally.
“Sure thing. Welcome to Riveker Ranch.”
Aevrin
“Miss?”Aevrinrappedtwoknuckles softly on the door of Ashelle’s room. “You up?”
“Come in,” the quick call came. Good; Cassia hadn't climbed out the window. Maybe Gramma had put her at ease.
“Supper’s done.” He opened the door two inches with a palm that was, unaccountably, sweating. “You ready?”
“In a moment.” Cassia slipped out of bed, still fully dressed. He frowned, somehow bothered by how uncomfortable that looked. Did she know she could make herself at home?
She started making the bed.
“You don’t need to do all that,” Aevrin told her. She ignored him. He waited while she set the room back to rights. When she finished, it was as if she’d never been in it at all. That troubled him.
Cassia followed him downstairs to the dining room. He could feel her walking three paces behind him, but her footsteps were quiet, trailing him like a wraith.
The dining room was one of the bigger chambers in the house, with two open, wide doorways opposite each other on the long walls. Most of the room was taken up with a dark wooden table, its edges rounded to form an oval. The table was framed by a sideboard on one side and a very homemade-looking dish cabinet on the other, a woodworking attempt by his uncle. One of his mother’s landscape paintings of the canyon took pride of place on the walls, which were paneled wood over stone.
Gramma Prisca carried in a stack of gray ceramic bowls while Aevrin’s father shouldered through the doorway with a large pot of stew, holding it with kitchen towels to keep from burning his hands.
“Who cooked tonight?” he heard his older brother Mavek ask, approaching the room from the other doorway, still out of sight.
“I did,” Gramma told him.
“Oh, good, ‘cuz…” Mavek entered the room and stopped talking, eyes falling on Cassia. “Wellhowdy,miss. You look a hell of a lot better than you did the other night.”
Aevrin had never troubled himself wondering which of the brothers were better looking. He did now, for a moment, trying to see them from Cassia’s point of view. They were all tall. Mavek kept his dark curly hair clipped short instead of long like Aevrin. His skin was a paler shade of brown, and he’d gotten Gramma Prisca’s blue eyes. Did Cassia like blue eyes? Of course she did. Who was he kidding?
A protective surge of fire filled his veins. A stupid mutter ofI saw her firstcrossed his mind. He pushed it down, wondering where that pure dumb cowherd thought had come from. He didn’t know the first thing about her except for her looks, and that she was hiding something.
“You were there?” Cassia asked quietly.
Mavek helped himself to a seat and lounged back, tipping the chair onto two legs.
“What, didn’t you get the story? I saved you.” His brother’s grin was easy and wide, a flash of white teeth. At 26, Mavek was only two years older than Aevrin, but he sure didn’t act like it.
“I thought Aevrin carried me.”
“Aevrin got you down the mountain, Mavek just drove you over in the cart. Don’t get swept up in his runaway tongue, girl,” Gramma informed Cassia, giving Mavek a sharp look. “And sit proper, boy, before you make a fool of yourself.” Mavek dropped his chair back to all fours with a scowl.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Cassia,” Aevrin’s father said. The right side of his jaw was permanently scarred by fire, the ropey, raised lines pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Sathuel Riveker. You take a seat now, make yourself at home.” Then he headed back towards the kitchen to grab another dish.
Looking bored, Mavek reached across the table to re-arrange the metal salt and pepper shakers, which were shaped like cattle, into a lewd position.
