He dipped his chin and stepped nearer to the inglenook, recoiling beneath Thane’s scrutiny.
Damir shook his head as though bored and looked back to me. “If the melder is harmed, remember, Sentry Ashwood, I will hold you responsible. I never want to see another death—not of craft or Stav—inside my walls again. Now go. Wash, rest. You look pitiful.”
Out in the corridor, Baldur knocked my shoulder as he stormed away.
Thane leaned against the wall and blew out a long breath. “What was all that?”
I furrowed my brow and shrugged.
“Don’t play the fool. You hated Fadey, though I don’t know why, and you returned from Skalfirth so twisted in your snarl I thought I might never unravel it. Not to mention, every time Baldur opened his damn mouth about her you looked ready to gut him.”
I waved him away and started my trek to my chambers.
“I mean it,” Thane said, quickening his step to catch up. “Who is this woman and what has she done to you?”
She is no one.
Thane chuckled, not believing a single word, but left me to storm away.
16
Lyra
The bedchamber was cavernous comparedto my room in Jakobson’s longhouse. Walls stretched with great corner beams etched in runes and symbols of the gods. Ravens and knives and runes.
The inglenook was empty, the fire long dead, and it gave way for cold—crisp and biting—to claw into the room.
I rubbed heat into my arms and went to the window. Below my chamber was a long stable and stacks of straw and feed. The room, for all its grandeur, was simple and dull. Smoky furs and heavy quilts made a bed. Two round, blue shields decorated the wall, and a simple russet woven rug covered the floorboards. There was a sitting chair made of pine boughs and a heavy yarn quilt tossed over the back.
Beyond the bedchamber was a washroom with a clay basin deep enough I could sit inside and stretch my legs. Tepid water filled it nearly to the brim, like I’d been expected.
A thrill quickened my pulse and I dragged my fingers over thesmooth edges of the tub. We used wooden pails in the garden back home to wash our skin. Only Jarl Jakobson had basins in his chamber.
Dried petals of lavender and honey blossoms were kept in a jar. Pink and black salts from the seas took others. I popped a cork from a jar filled with powders to cleanse the hair. Selena made something similar but it had a savory scent that made my hair smell like rosemary and cloves. This was like rain on the sea, clean and cool.
A groan broke between my teeth when I sank into the water and took liberties with the different petals and scrubs. The powder lathered into a soapy layer over my long hair. I held my breath and dunked beneath the surface, escaping reality for a moment. Only the sounds of the pulse in my skull, the swirl of water, filled my thoughts.
For a moment I could pretend to be swimming in the Green Fjord with Kael; I could imagine the lap of water was the beat of the sea against Thorian’s boat when he let us go fishing with him.
When I surfaced, I took my time washing off the journey until a chill chased away the warmth and my skin was wrinkled like rotting pomes.
I slipped into a thin night shift folded in the tall wardrobe, then returned to the truth—I was locked in a fine cell.
Shelves along one wall were stacked with parchment scrolls, vellum, and a few tomes bound in smooth leather. Near the bed was a new plate of boiled pears atop two books I’d not noticed before and a folded note on rosewood parchment. I popped one pear into my mouth, toes curling from the sweet juices.
My gaze scanned the books beneath the plate. One was a copy ofTales of the Wanderer.
The other brought a reluctant thrill to my pulse—a stack ofrice paper with notes about gestures, signals, and commands. With hurried fingers, I unfolded the note.
Didn’t want to disturb you in the washroom. Thought you might want to read up on craft. The second ledger is a gift from the Sentry. Ashwood told me he caught your unbreakable fascination with his hands, so he thought it would save you time and less staring to simply read through some of them…
I huffed. “Bastard.”
Even in writing, I could see his arrogant smirk, and had few doubts he’d said the exact words to Emi.
I think it is wise since you will likely see a great deal of him in coming days. Who knows, perhaps some understanding might alter your opinions of him.
Stav Nightlark
