“Well,” I huff, smoothing my dress awkwardly, if only to give my hands something to do. “If you’re not waiting for me, what are you doing? I’m sure you have a perfectly good view from one of the thousand windows.”
Sam shrugs, stepping out from the threshold to close the towering doors. “Just listening to the wind, is all.”
“Here we go,” I mutter with a roll of my eyes, annoyance scratching at my skin. “The wind speaks to you?”
“The wind speaks to everyone,” Sam says with a sidelong look that only increases my irritation. “That’s the problem. No one’s business is ever safe, nosey as it is.”
Before I can begin to formulate a response to the idea that the wind is not only sentient, but a gossip, Sam tilts his head and remarks, “You look like you’re feeling much better.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, I realize he’s right: Idofeel better. The tension in my muscles has ebbed, the burning sensation in my skull now little more than a dull throb. I roll my shoulder and find there’s no accompanying tenderness. I furrow my brow. I’ve always healed quickly, but I never feelgood.There is always a remnant of my sleepless nights, an edge of anxiety, a slick pulse of fear simmering beneath my surface.
But right now, I feel…rested.
“You must be starving after the day you’ve had,” Sam continues, appearing not to notice my confusion. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”
At my grimace, he hurriedly clarifies, “Marina, Tiernan and I. We usually eat together.”
“You don’t have to…serve the king or something?”
The corner of Sam’s lip quirks like he finds the question ridiculous but is too kind to actually laugh. “After the day Niko’shad, I doubt he’ll emerge from his chambers for the next few days.” He shrugs, not bothering to explain why, when the king had been so fervent about using me, he would now retreat to his bedroom for days on end.
“There will be dessert if you wish it,” Sam promises.
My stomach rumbles and I’m suddenly aware just how ravenous I am. Even before Letum, the stress of insomnia and nightmares had effectively robbed me of my appetite. Now, the pleasant looseness in my muscles, the lack of buzzing in my head—I suddenly feel human again, rather than the echo of one.
If what Sam says is true, Niko is out of my way for the night. And a meal will do me good. I don’t know how long it’ll be before I get the chance to eat again.
“Lead the way, Sammy,” I reply.
Sam grins and ushers me down a long hallway to the right. I expect him to turn into the formal dining room where we’d had breakfast, but instead, he keeps walking until we reach a large set of double doors at the end of the corridor. He places a palm on the nearest one, and they both vanish, revealing a gorgeous courtyard nestled between the towering turrets of the Lunaedon.
Giant trees line the space, carved from the same black stone as the palace, their branches curving over a long table set in the middle like the protective arms of a mother. Ebony leaves and flowered vines hang down in curtain, winding over the trunks and across the floor. Candles litter every available space, their golden wax dripping over the table, spilling over the fallen leaves carpeting the floor, wound between the frozen black ivy and the strong branches overhead.
A fire crackles merrily in a large hearth near the end of the table, casting the entire space in a unique golden light that seems to settle in my veins as I take in the scene before me. It should be tragic to see a forest, a living thing, frozen in time like this—it should feel isolated and cold—but I only feel an abiding warmth.
One so full, I can hardly remember ever being cold.
Sam wanders toward the table where Tiernan and Marina are already seated, giving me a moment to breathe it all in. To allow the last of my unease to slip from me entirely.
“Willie!” Tiernan exclaims excitedly, giving me a bright smile. I’ve never liked that nickname on the rare occasion one of my flings had been brave enough to use it, but with Tiernan’s delight, and the way it sounds more like ‘Whew-ee’in his pronunciation, I smile back in spite of myself. “Come sit! It’s beencenturiessince we’ve had anyone new to share a meal with,” he intones with a dramatic flair.
He signs as he speaks which I realize immediately is for my benefit. Even with his injured tongue, Tiernan speaks well enough to be understood, his vocal cords not having suffered the same trauma as Marina’s. He’s giving me the chance to learn so that when Marina speaks to me, I’ll be able to understand.
Marina herself watches me warily from where she sits beside Sam. Her hair is loose around her face, hanging in a shining curtain to the middle of her back. It would soften anyone else’s features, but in Marina, it only seems to carve them more sharply.
She arches a delicate brow in challenge, and signs something to Sam. Her hands move in front of her too fast for me to understand most of it, but I’m almost positive the last word isstab.
Sam presses his lips together like he’s trying to swallow his laughter. He translates, “Marina is wondering if we should all start arming ourselves for meals, as that seems to be your favorite time to attack.”
Tiernan chokes on his wine, his eyes darting between Marina and me.
“It was only once,” I mutter sheepishly, feeling an uncharacteristic blush creep up my cheeks. “The silverware is safe, I promise.”
It isn’t a hard promise to make. With the smell of the food piled high in serving dishes at the center of the table, and the warmth of the fire, I feel almost—happy. Safe. The thought strikes somewhere deep, somewhere muffled by how relaxed I feel as I sink into the chair beside Tiernan, closest to the fire. Marina shoots Sam a suspicious look, but I don’t bother to examine the reason as I accept a plate from Tiernan filled with fried chicken and buttery mashed potatoes.
The first bite is so good, I make a delighted hum in the back of my throat as the flavor explodes in my mouth. Food is another thing to suffer from the plague, and now, I suppose it makes sense why. There is no one left to dream up new recipes, to imagine new ways to combine flavors.
“This is delicious. Do you cook it all yourself?” I ask Tiernan, as he’d been the one to serve breakfast.
