I sighed heavily. “I don’t know why he did it just to tell me not to do it again.”
Caterpillar exhaled a lazy curl of smoke. “Curious, isn’t it? A man who cannot walk... walks. A man who cannot stand... stands. A man bleeding from a poisoned wound drags himself across a cavern.” His half-lidded eyes found mine. “All to tell you not to risk yourself for him.” A slow blink. “What kind of man does such a foolish thing, I wonder?”
“A stubborn one,” I muttered.
“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Or perhaps... a man who cannot bear the thought of losing you. Even if he doesn’t have the words to say it.”
I looked over at Darius. His dark hair was damp with sweat, curling against his forehead. His face was pale—too pale—the sharp angles of his cheekbones more pronounced than before.Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes. Bandages wrapped his torso, spots of crimson seeping through.
He looked broken. Exhausted. Half dead.
And he’d dragged himself across a cavern just to see me.
Caterpillar’s words settled into my chest like a seed taking root. But what if Caterpillar was wrong?
What if I let myself believe—let myself hope—and Darius pushed me away? I'd survived a lot, but I wasn't sure I could survive that.
Doc stood up. “Alice, you need to eat to build up your strength. I’ll return with some stew.”
I wanted to argue. What I needed was silence. Space to sort through the tangled mess in my head—Caterpillar's words, Darius' raw voice, the terrifying possibility that I might actually feel something for the man lying unconscious beside me. But my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.
Chester materialized beside my cot, his grin floating ahead of him. “Eating while lying down. A curious challenge. Food goes in, food comes out—but not always in the direction one hopes.” His golden eyes glittered. “Unless you’d prefer to sit up? Or shall we see how stew looks on a blanket?”
“I’ll sit up,” I said. Chester slid an arm behind my back while Caterpillar steadied me by the elbow, easing me upright.
My dress was soaked through with sweat, clinging to my skin like a second layer. Cold and clammy. Every time I shifted, the damp fabric pulled and twisted, sticking to places it shouldn’t. My hair was matted against my neck and forehead.
No wonder Darius had turned away. I probably looked—and smelled—like something dragged out of a sewer.
Caterpillar could spin all the riddles about love he wanted. One look at me like this and any man would run the other direction.
“Is there any way I can change out of this dress?” I looked between Chester and Caterpillar. “I feel like a drowned rat.”
I'd noticed it earlier—the camp was all men. Soldiers, rebels, outlaws. Not a woman in sight. Still, I'd hoped someone might have something.
Chester’s grin widened. “Dresses, dresses, dresses. Such lovely things. Flowing and feminine and...” He tilted his head. “Completely absent from our humble hideaway.”
I blinked. “What?”
“No women here, little witch. Just us rough, grumpy men playing at rebellion.” His golden eyes glittered with amusement. “We have tunics. Trousers. Shirts that smell faintly of sweat and campfire.” A pause. “Lovely options, really.”
“So no dress.”
Thank god. Dresses and I had never gotten along—and after wrestling with that corset, I was happy to never wear one again.
“No dress.” His grin stretched impossibly wider. “But look on the bright side—trousers are much better for running. And in this place, running happens rather often.”
Caterpillar exhaled slowly. “I believe Archer is closest to her size. His spare clothes would drown her less than the others.”
“That would be perfect.” Relief flooded through me. Anything was better than this cold, clingy mess. “Thank you.”
Chester’s body began to fade, leaving only his grin. “Gratitude. How refreshing. Most people just demand.” The grin winked out. “I’ll return before you miss me. Which, of course, you will.”
“Water,” Caterpillar said, the word curling out like smoke. “A bowl. A cloth. Small comforts in an uncomfortable world.” He tilted his head. “Washing won’t restore what you’ve lost. But it may remind you that you’re still alive.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you. Really.”
At least Caterpillar and Chester weren’t rejecting me. They’d watched over me while I was unconscious. Offered me clothes and water without question. Treated me like I mattered.
