“Why didn’t you wake me?” He blinked bleary eyes at her and scrubbed a hand through his adorably ruffled hair.
She gave him what Devri would call “The Look.” “I’ve been doing this myself for the last several months, Casper. Theredidn’t seem to be much sense in waking you to do a job that I can complete on my own.”
“A few months ago you didn’t have a shoulder still healing from being dislocated, or someone trying to kill you.”
“We can’t actually prove that’s what is happening.”
Casper’s look was tired and unimpressed. He drawled, “I’m fairly certain we do.” He crossed the narrow floor and swiped the cloth from her hands.
“Hey!” She jumped for it, but he held it high and out of reach.
“It’s my turn.”
She jumped a few more times before giving up with a frustrated growl. She didn’t dare fight him for it—not here, not with so many invaluable, breakable pieces.
She started to step away, but Casper draped an arm over her shoulders and held her in place. His head tipped against hers with a quiet sigh as he continued cleaning the glass lens. Sienna froze. Casper had been attentive over the last few days, but always from a distance. The longest he had allowed her to touch him was during their walk to the caves, and she had a feeling it was only because she had been injured and he felt as if it were his duty to escort her.
This action was…unusually affectionate.
She blamed the sleep deprivation.
After all, he had been even more adamant than she that it wasonly for a week.
“There.” Casper ran the cloth over the lens one last time before hanging it on its designated hook. “All done.” He yawned. “Can we go back to sleep now?”
Sienna reached up and patted him twice on the chest. “Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”
In a flash, his hand had captured her own and was holding it captive against his heart. He froze.
So did she.
The sudden tension in the room was thick enough to cut it with a knife. Casper turned slowly, angling his body just enough to see her face. His eyes were full of tortured longing. “Si,” he whispered, lifting his hand to skim the top of her cheek.
She waited, breathlessly, for something to happen.
Nothing did.
After a moment, he seemed to collect himself. He shook his head and stepped back, looking down. When he lifted his face again, it wore the same broody expression as always, and his voice was gruff as he spoke. “You should go to sleep.”
Sienna sighed inwardly, though she really couldn’t fault him.
I’m just letting this idea of being engaged to him run away with my emotions.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes. I’m just going to watch the water for a few minutes. There’s a clear sky tonight.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned to the tall windows and picked up a spyglass, training it on the horizon as she swept her gaze back and forth.
Casper stood beside her and clasped his hands behind his back as he waited. The silence that stretched between them felt awkward after…whatever it was that had just happened. Sienna grasped at anything to break it.
“I’ve been thinking—this breach that you were talking about is, it’s near Norditch, which means that the Flying Dutchman is probably from there.”
Even with her eyes glued to the instrument in her hand, she could feel him tense.
Interesting. I wonder if he’s had any encounters with him before.
“The moniker he’s been given would seem to indicate that as well.”
“It does?”
