Huffing irritation, I tucked my head under one of Neirin’s arms, allowing him to lean on me as I guided him across the room. The amount of weight he put on me revealed his pain, the truth of his weakness. Yet still, he’d gone to the door to defend me. Something in my chest constricted at the realization, and when I helped ease him into a chair and covered his lap with thebloodied quilt, I kissed him. It was brief, a brush of lips, but full of meaning.
“Thank you,” I said.
Neirin’s brows drew together, but before he could question me, Maerel appeared at the bed, calling me to help with the sheets.
When all the soiled blankets lay in a pile, Maerel bundled them and left the room. She came back a few minutes later with fresh bedding and, on her next trip, a pitcher of warm water and a bowl with a stack of clean rags.
The innkeeper busied herself with mopping the floors, cursing under her breath, and lecturing Neirin as she did. Despite the state she’d been in earlier, Maerel’s quick tongue had returned. I didn’t share friendship with the innkeeper, but I did hold a level of trust with her. It had been Maerel who’d first found Aureus and me in her garden all those years ago after Mother had died. She had been the one to take us to Leighis, where we were nursed back to health. It was because of Maerel that Aureus and I came to have a home. There was something about such a situation that created a connection between people, even if they did not often walk the same paths or form a close bond.
When I’d finished redressing the bed, I walked back to Neirin and touched the back of my hand to his forehead to test for fever. His skin was still cool. Almost too cool.
He drew me into his lap by my waist.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I cautioned.
“You won’t hurt me,” Neirin said, lowering his cheek to my forehead.
The comfort I found in his embrace was welcoming, and I relaxed against him, soothed by the steady thrum of his heart.Adrenaline faded, and my immediate concerns overNeirin’s state eased. The weight of exhaustion tugged at me, and I released a long and heavy breath.
“You’re about as much help as that routier of yours is,” Maerel retorted as she wiped a bloodied handprint from the wall. “Stays in my inn free of charge, is out with you all day, kills a man in my garden.” She was rambling, but Neirin flinched at her words nonetheless.I suspected the innkeeper took to sarcasm and quips as a way to soothe and conceal her true emotions. It was something I understood, recognized, and could empathize with.
“Has anyone come looking for me?”Neirin asked. I placed one of my hands over his in a silent offering of support.
Maerel met his eyes and sighed. “No, not yet. I cleaned the kitchen, but I’m not dragging that body out to the river for you. Someone will find him.”
“As they must.” Neirin’s response came without hesitation, his words flat yet laced with abhorrence. “Thank you, Maerel, for what you’ve done.”
She nodded. “There’s nothing left to lead them to you, but come morning, I suspect someone will start asking questions around town. They’ll ask if I know anything.”
The hand beneath mine tensed. “What will you tell them?”
Tossing the rag she held over her shoulder, Maerel ran a hand through the loose strands of hair that fell in front of her brows. “Did that man deserve what came to him?”
“He did.”
Maerel set her eyes to the hearth. “Tomorrow, you will explain.” Turning her eyes back to him, she narrowed them. “No more lies, Lark.”
“Neirin,” he corrected.
I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb, knowing this was hard for him.
Nodding, Maerel gathered her things. “I will cover for you. Get some rest. You’re both safe here.”
The door closed behind her, and Neirin coaxed me from his lap. He stood, groaning as he did, and latched the door. Blood trickled from his wound, and the heaviness in his eyes and the paleness of his complexion spoke of his state.
“You’ve lost too much blood,” I told him. “Sit back down. Do you need help?”
Trailing a hand along the wall, he made his way back to the chair. “No, I’m alright.”
Pouring heated water from the pitcher into the ceramic bowl Maerel had provided, I scoffed. “You are not alright, Neirin.” I gritted my teeth. “You should be—”
“Dead. I know. I should be.”
I set my jaw. Instead of giving him a response, I soaked one of the clean rags and wrung it out. The cloth steamed, and as water trickled down my arms, I became aware of how cold the room was. I would add logs to the fire after getting Neirin cleaned, bandaged, and into bed.No, the fire would be out by then. I sighed and set the rag back down. Pacing to the hearth, I added a log and poked the embers.
“Why aren’t you? Dead?” I asked.
“Because you saved my life.”
