“‘And so the good lady spake and said, ‘Bold wanderer, I bid you welcome to this hall, and offer you a cup of mead in hospitality. All I ask is that you tell me all you know of Sigestan, once my childhood companion and now gone from this place to gain glory and honor among men…’’”
Genevieve slowly sat up and removed her bonnet, pulling her fingers through her disarranged hair.
“Miss! You’re awake!” The exclamation ended in a cough.
Kendrick paused in his reading.
Genevieve smiled at Fletcher and stood. “I am. Are you feeling better?”
“Still full of gunk,” the boy said disgustedly.
She felt his forehead. “Your fever is lower, though. What have you been listening to?”
“There’s a bloke what’s named Si—Sig?—”
“Sigestan,” Kendrick said.
“And he’s not allowed to marry the girl he’s in love with, so he’s going ’round doing lots of great deeds.”
Genevieve nodded. “I was fond of Sigestan, though he has a little too much pride for my taste.”
“We’re only on chapter three,” Kendrick said. “The lad keeps falling asleep.” To prove his point, Fletcher yawned.
“Have you taken your medicine?” Genevieve asked.
“Tastes blinking awful,” the boy mumbled.
“He has. If you want to keep reading, I’ll get Joseph to come look at him before he falls asleep again.” Kendrick stood and handed the book over to her, pointing to where they had stopped.
Genevieve took his place and picked up the narrative until Joseph came in. “Good evening, Fletcher. My name is Joseph. I’m a doctor. We met yesterday, but you were very sick. I am glad to see you doing better.”
“Can’t I eat something besides soup?” Fletcher complained. “I’m starving to death, I am.”
“Tomorrow,” Joseph promised. He checked him over quickly and praised him for the medicine he had taken with only mild to moderate complaining. “Kendrick said he had a few things to see to, and he would be back later. Let me know if you need me. Robbie and I are overseeing deliveries for the house.”
“What deliveries?” Genevieve asked.
“Furniture, mostly, but other amenities too, to replace what’s missing. He said to let me know if there was anything in particular you wanted for the house.”
“I can’t think of anything,” she said honestly. “We’ll be all right, won’t we, Fletcher? We’ve got a chapter to finish.”
She read until the end of the chapter when Fletcher drifted off into a dreamless sleep, different from his restless, muttering fever-fueled slumber of the previous night. She remained sitting by him, the book in her lap, as she thought about what she had agreed to.
“Will you marry me, Genevieve?”
“Yes, please.”
Yes, please? As if he had offered a choice of different colored ribbons? Gracious. She pressed a hand to her face. And he hadn’t said a word about it when she’d woken. And now he wasgone?—
Stop it, she scolded herself.There is no point to this hen-wittedness. No point in wishing she had been a little more sophisticated when accepting her marriage proposal.
He had offered and she had accepted, and that was all that mattered. They would be stepping forward into the unknown, trying to forge a new path for the Ossuary. But they’d do it together.
She reached for the fringes of her talent. It was an automatic impulse to gather it about herself and disappear until she had gathered her composure. But strangely, it took far more effort to accomplish than normal.
Genevieve swallowed and dropped the intangible cloak of invisibility, repeating the action several times. Where once drawing her talent about her had been as easy as breathing, she now fumbled for it. Was she out of practice? Ordinarily, she used her talent every night. How long had it been since she had felt the need? She had never heard of a vampire’s talent growing rusty.
She swallowed back the unease, even as part of her mind reminded her,Your talent was born from fear. Kendrick’s promised you won’t have to be afraid anymore.
