Picking up the satchel, she started for the door. “I taught you what is required. I’m no longer needed unless something drastic happens. Which it won’t. Because you’ll both be resting.”
“Of course, Niara,” Cethin replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “Thank you for all your help.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Tybalt said, following her from the room. The male hadn’t said a single word the entire time.
“Do you need anything? Something to eat?” Razik asked. His eyes begrudgingly slid to Cethin. “Either of you?”
“Kailia?” Cethin asked, all of his attention back on her.
“Water would be nice,” she replied, smoothing her hands over the soft furs again before shaking them out.
“I’ll bring a pitcher up and see what I can find for food,” Razik said. For some reason, he sent Cethin a pointed look as he added, “I’ll bring up plenty ofchoices.”
Then he left, leaving the door partially open behind him.
Cethin turned back, gaze sweeping over her. “Do you need more blankets? Pillows?”
“A bath,” she sighed. “I need a bath.”
“I don’t think that’s an option for two more days,” he said, lowering to the chair and fidgeting a bit as he stretched his legs out. It was then she saw the blanket on the floor beside the chair.
“Have you been sleeping in that chair this whole time?” Kailia asked, because surely not.
He nodded, shifting again. “Niara wasn’t pleased.”
“But why? Sleep there, I mean.”
“You said you don’t like waking in unfamiliar places. That it unsettles you. You’ve never been here, so I wanted to make sure someone you knew was here when you woke,” he answered.
“But there’s a bed,” she said, wondering why her chest was feeling warm. Why her whole body was feeling…something.
He paused, studying her before asking, “You want me to share a bed with you, tiny fiend?”
“Iwantyou to give me back my arrow,” she retorted. “And my daggers. Though it doesn’t seem to matter what I want.”
His face fell flat at that, the small bit of humor gone. “I can get your daggers now if you’d like.”
“I would,” she said with a nod.
He got to his feet, pausing at the doorway to say, “Please don’t get out of the bed.”
Minutes later he returned, the daggers in hand. Placing them on her blanket-covered lap, he reclaimed his chair. “Am I redeemed now?”
“Still missing my arrow,” she muttered, picking up a dagger and turning it over in her hand.
How was he still alive?
She held it up, the blade pointed at him. “You didn’t die.”
He’d gone still, looking at her as though she’d said something absurd rather than spoken a simple truth.
“I am indeed still on this side of the Veil and not in the After,” he agreed, the words measured. “Were you hoping for a different outcome?”
“Not yet.”
He huffed a laugh. “Sorry to disappoint,” he mused, relaxing farther into the chair. “However, we do need to discuss those daggers of yours.”
“Why?”
