Beside me, Aric clears his throat. “That’s no problem at all, ma’am. Is there a couch in the room? Or I’d be happy to sleep on the floor if needed.”
Mrs. Bluewren looks relieved. “There’s a couch, yes. And plenty of extra blankets and pillows. The room is quite spacious—one of our best. Selene made sure of it. And it has a nice view of the village.” She pulls a big brass key from a hook behind the desk. “Let me show you up, then. And I’ll have breakfast sent to your room—you both must be starving after that journey.” She smiles, but it does little to calm the anxiety rushing through me.
One room.
She leads us up the staircase to the second floor, then down a hallway lined with oil paintings of the countryside. The room is at the end, and when Mrs. Bluewren opens the door and I step inside, I’m impressed by how nice it is.
Sunlight streams through a large window overlooking the village square. A fireplace sits against one wall, already filled with wood and ready to be lit. There’s a small table with two chairs, a wardrobe, a cushioned couch near thewindow, and—
One bed.
And it’s not even a particularly large bed. Maybe big enough for two people if they werereallycomfortable with each other. Which we are. In a way. But notthatkind of comfortable. The sight of it makes my familiar butterflies start to swarm.
“I’ll have breakfast sent up shortly,” Mrs. Bluewren says, setting the key on the table. “If you need anything at all, just ring your bell.” She gestures to a pull cord beside the door.
“Thank you,” Aric and I say in unison.
The door clicks shut behind her, and the room feels much smaller once she’s gone.
Aric sets our bags down by the wardrobe, then turns to face me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So... this is cozy.” His lips pull up on one side, accentuating his tusks.
I let out a nervous laugh, but I can’t seem to come up with words. I just keep glancing at the bed.
“I meant what I said downstairs,” he says, his tone gentle. “I’ll take the couch.”
I twist my fingers together and rock onto my toes, then back, looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t know if it’s big enough. And I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I don’t mind. Really. It’s not a big deal.”
“Okay . . . If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” he says, and when I glance up at him, he’s wearing a relaxed smile.
The tension eases slightly, and Aric crosses to the window, peering out at the village below. “So, what’s the plan? We eat, then go meet Professor Silvermoon’s sister?”
I pull off my knit hat and try to smooth down my tangled hair, grateful for the change of subject. “Professor Silvermoon said Aurora will expect us around midday, so we have a few hours to explore if you want.”
“I definitely want,” Aric says, grinning. “I haven’t been here since I was a kid. I barely remember any of it.”
Before I can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Aric crosses the room to pull the door open, and a young woman enters with a tray laden with food: thick slices of toasted bread with butter and jam, fresh fruit, and two steaming mugs of tea.
“Compliments of the house,” she says cheerfully, setting everything on the table. “Mrs. Bluewren wanted to make sure you were well fed after your journey.”
“Thank you,” I manage, my mouth already watering at the sight of the steaming bread.
Once the woman leaves, Aric and I sit at the small table, our knees bumping underneath it, making him smile and me turn my face away shyly. Everything smells incredible, and for a few minutes, we eat in comfortable silence, too hungry to bother with conversation.
“This bread,” Aric says eventually, his mouth half full, “is amazing.”
That’s an understatement. It’s warm and crusty on the outside and soft and pillowy on the inside. I spread butter and strawberry jam on a slice and take a bite, closing my eyes at the taste. After I swallow, I say, “This might be even better than Mama’s.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Aric teases. “She might disown you.”
I laugh, reaching for my tea. The warmth seeps throughthe ceramic mug into my palms, and I breathe in the steam—chamomile and honey.
Across from me, Aric leans back in his chair, looking perfectly relaxed. The morning light catches on his earrings, making them sparkle, and his hair is loose around his shoulders for once, the topknot he usually wears it up in having fallen out sometime during the night.
My fingers get the sudden desire to reach out and touch him, to push through his long hair and see if it’s as soft as it looks.
