I’m fine.She strained to open them again, little by little, until the room resolved around her. Tightening her grip on Kaelith’s hand, she groaned and dragged herself upright, spine protesting every inch.
“Tis but a scratch.” The words came out slanted, her voice slipping into a lilt she hadn’t heard in years.
Kaelith’s brows went up. Mira’s too. Both exchanged a look over her head, equal parts concern and disbelief.
“How hard did she get hit on the head?” Mira whispered, as though stage-speaking to Kaelith.
“She got slapped by the wall of a building, if my memory serves, so…”
Kaelith’s face suddenly filled her vision, closer than she expected. His eyes scanned hers, taking in every twitch of her pupils, every scrape and bruise. The hand cupping the base of her skull worked slow, steady circles, coaxing away the throb with each pass of his thumb.
Then, just as abruptly, he sat back, withdrawing his hand with him, leaving her head bare and aching.
“Hey…” The word slipped out.
“But I think this is just one of those odd turns of phrase from a different world.” His touch found her again a moment later, fingers pressing into the top of her thigh.
“Yes, well, let’s try to keep those to a minimum.” Mira shivered, then straightened, tugging her cloak around her shoulders. “The Grannies already want to kill you for being too dangerous. If they knew she wasn’t even from this world…” Her voice dropped, heavy with resignation. “We don’t even have a word for that degree of outsider.”
“Right.” Rynna’s gaze dropped to her lap, fingers flexing against the blanket covering her legs. She searched for the shape of what came next, but the words refused to form.
“So.” Kaelith’s voice broke the quiet, steady but edged with something almost cautious. “What now?”
Mira had reached the door. Her hand paused on the frame, then she glanced back over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
He tipped his chin toward Rynna, then toward the room at large. “What happens now?”
“As soon as you can walk,” Mira said, her tone brisk, “report to the Grannies. I’m sure they could use some more fresh water.”
Kaelith groaned, low and theatrical as his head tilted back against the chair behind him,
Mira’s mouth twitched. “And the younglings are eager for their next training session,” she added, eyes flicking toward Rynna.
That’s all?Her throat worked as she tried to take it in.
“We live,” Mira said simply.
Silence stretched after she left, the door swinging shut behind her.
And Kaelith simply watched her, his hand resting on her thigh, thumb tracing idle patterns as though to anchor them both.
The battle was over, and she remained here. With him.
Her breath stuttered, and something inside her cracked, like a door opening where she hadn’t realized there was one.
Her eyes latched onto him, searching, holding. The ache in her ribs, the throb in her skull, the dried blood on her tongue—none of it mattered. Her lips parted, but no words came. She didn’t need them.
The sound of his fingers sweeping slowly across her skin said enough.
Chapter seventeen
Thescentofroastingmeat drifted through the air, mingling with the tang of spiced wine and the sweat of too many bodies pressed together. Laughter spilled from every direction with sudden bursts of children darting through the dancers, their footsteps slapping against cool stone.
Rynna let the sounds pull her under, let them blur.
Kaelith’s arms slid around her waist, anchoring her to him as they danced to the pulse of the drums.
Am I dreaming, Kae?Her thoughts brushed his mind.
