“Am I interrupting something?” a soft voice from the doorway interrupted.
Slaide nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun around. “Hazel? Gods, I-you-you’re alive.”
“It seems that way, yes,” she said with a hint of mirth in her voice.
Conflicting feelings raged within him. One, the urge to run to her and squeeze her tight. The other, the voice of reason, told him to stay calm and collected. The end result was somewhere between a hop and a skip that left him feeling mortified.
For better or worse, it made her smile. And in that same moment, it occurred to Slaide that she’d never smiled in his presence that he could remember. And hewouldremember.
“Are you okay?” she asked after a few moments went by. “You’re acting weird, er, weirder than normal.”
He snapped out of it. “Fine. I’m fine. I-areyoualright?” After all, it wasn’t he who had just been through Hel and back.
Her eyes glossed over for a moment before she spoke. “I think I am. I’m not dead—not yet, anyway. A little sore and my head still feels weird, but I’m—” The next sound she made was anoomphas Slaide scooped her into a hug and pressed her tight against him.
It wasn’t until she squirmed in his grasp that he came to his senses.Get your shit together, stupid. She’s a means to an end, nothing more.
“Maybe I should go get Nemsen,” she suggested. Reaching for her pendant as he so often caught her doing.
“No, really. It’s fine. I’m fine. See?” He held his arms out to the side as if that was supposed to prove something. “Please, Hazel, sit. Eat something. I feel we have a lot of catching up to do.”
It was latewhen Hazel stretched and yawned in her seat. Slaide was unaware of how much time had passed until he noticed her struggling to keep her eyes open.
Recounting the trial in grave detail was probably almost as exhausting as living it. Especially after learning she’d survived not only the labyrinth itself, but a shadowkin called a Tenebris,and a siren-like water wraith known as a Nixie. Two creatures that weren’t supposed to be there, Slaide explained. He didn’t feel it was necessary to tell her she was lucky to be alive.
“I think that’s about enough for tonight.” Slaide stood and moved to help her out of her chair. Yes, the same Slaide who had previously barked at Pimley and the servants for doing the same. He convinced himself this was different. Plus, that was before he’d gotten to know her. Even if it had only been a week.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow after you’ve had time to rest.”
She wavered slightly as she rose.
Perhaps being awake in time for tomorrow’s trial shouldn’t have been his only concern. Though, the mirror should be more mentally taxing than physical. He’d been so immersed in his thoughts, it thoroughly shocked him when Hazel’s thumb grazed the corner of his mouth.
His thoughts raced.When did the evening take this turn? Did I miss something?
“Relax, weirdo,” she said, removing her hand. “You had sauce on your face.”
He blinked.Sauce. Right.
“You know,” she continued with laughter dancing in her eyes, “you’re kind of cute when you’re flustered.”
Cute.He wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or offended. Slaide Elias, witch hunter for the High King, should not be seen as cute.
He raised a brow. “You should be getting to bed. Another big day tomorrow.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” That she had the nerve to act inconvenienced by her mandatory participation in a tournament that could easily mean her death was something new to Slaide. In her short time as a prisoner, she’d changed.
And he was glad for it. The Hazel he’d met mere days ago was a shell of the one before him. Apparently, she just needed the right encouragement.
They walked back to her quarters in silence, though Slaide’s mind was anything but quiet. He wanted to press her for answers to his burning questions so he could stay up and form a plan for the coming day, but it wasn’t the time.
Before they reached her door, he finally broke his silence. “Hazel,” he spoke, “tomorrow’s trial… we really need to talk about your previous interaction with that mirror.”I don’t know if you can withstand it twice.But he kept that part to himself.
She yawned rather dramatically, to the point where Slaide wondered if she was being intentional. “That’s a problem for tomorrow me.”
He frowned. “Indeed. And tomorrowme.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Slaide. Not everything is about you. If you’re so worried, why don’tyouface the mirror?” She grabbed his wrist and smacked his palm against hers as though they were clapping hands. “There, I tagged you in. You’re up, tough guy,” she chided.
