She’s changed over the past couple of weeks. The realization is sudden and shocking. She carries herself differently now. Less like prey waiting to bolt, and more like someone who has earned a place among those surrounding her.
The conversation meanders over different things. Serath describes the markets at Silvermoon Bay in the Winter Court lands. Therin argues with Sorel about where the best tavern is. Vessara rolls her eyes.
Alleria absorbs it all, turning her tankard in slow circles on the table. She laughs again, and takes another drink, relaxed in a way I haven’t seen before—warm, full of food, probably a little tipsy from the ale. When she catches me looking, she doesn’t look away.
I’m the one who breaks first.
The evening winds down slowly. The pitcher empties and isn’t refilled. Sorel leaves first, then Vessara and Kaelith. Serath stays a while longer, talking quietly with Alleria, before she too rises and bids us goodnight.
That leaves me, Therin, and Alleria.
The common room empties around us. Alleria is staring into what’s left of her ale, her expression softer now, the flush still high on her cheeks.
“I should go up. My training instructor demands I’m awake and alert at dawn.” She tosses Therin a grin. “Thank you. For letting me join you tonight.”
“You don’t need to thank us,” he says. “You’re always welcome at our table, Alleria.”
Gratitude fills her eyes, and she nods. Her gaze finds mine for a moment, then she turns toward the stairs. I watch her go and once she’s out of view, Therin turns to me.
“So … are we going to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“The fact you’ve spent the last two hours pretending you weren’t watching her?” He leans back in his chair. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“Oh please. You tracked every move she made. Every time she laughed, every time she shifted in her seat. You’ve barely taken your eyes off her all evening.” He picks up his empty tankard, examines it and sets it back down again. “You quit training her after one session, and stay out of her way. Do you want her or don’t you?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple.” He stands, pushing his chair back. “I’m pretty sure you fucked her before deciding to send her back to the palace. I don’t understand your reasoning for that, and I’m not asking. What I want to know is why when she chose to stay here, you decided the best response was to pretend she doesn’t exist.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“Don’t even try to pull that shit with me.” He moves toward the stairs then stops. “Whatever you’re afraid of, Cairn, hiding from it isn’t going to make it go away. Talk to her … or don’t. But we have enough to deal with without also playing as the barrier so you can pretend you’re not interested in her.”
He’s gone before I can respond.
I sit alone at the table for a long time. The fire burns down, the candles gutter and die until there’s just me and the darkness. I should go back to my room. There’s absolutely nothing I have to say that can’t wait. There’s no reason in the world that requires me to climb the stairs and walk to her door …
I find myself in the hallway. Then at her door. There’s a pause after I knock, then her voice reaches me.
“Yes? Who is it?”
“Cairn.”
There’s another pause, longer this time, then the door opens.
She’s still dressed, though her hair is loose from its braid now, falling past her shoulders. She looks at me, surprise and wariness battling for dominance in her eyes.
“Can I come in?”
She steps back without a word, and I walk in. She watches me, arms crossed over her chest, as I close the door, then lean against it. When I don’t speak, she moves to sit on the edge of the bed, wincing as she lowers herself. Her hand goes to her back.
“Sore?”
“Therin’s training often includes physical torture. He was throwing pebbles at me.” She kneads the small of her back with her knuckles. Her eyes flick to the tub in the corner of the room, then away. “I’ll be fine once I figure out how to dodge his annoyingly accurate aim.”
