“I’m exhausted, hungry, and aching all over. We should rest for a couple of hours before we face the vault. That challenge isn’t easy either. I need to gather my thoughts if I’m going to beat it.”
“I understand.”
Castien chooses one of the chairs and sits down. His back is straight and his hands rest on his knees. He looks like a statue.
I frown.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t need to rest. I don’t sleep.”
“What do you do instead?”
“I enter sentry mode for two hours every three days to defragment my systems, but I remain aware of threats.”
“That must be nice. And to think how much time I waste sleeping.”
I head to the adjoining chamber to use the privy and wash up a bit. It’s the first time we’ve had a wall between us in a whole day, and I realize tonight will be weird. We have to share this room, and I’ll have to sleep while he watches over me. But I’m so tired, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.
When I come back out, I open the wooden chest and find exactly what I was hoping for. There’s a medieval nightdress folded on top, and underneath are supplies in a whicker basket – dried food that looks fresh, wine, and a bottle of clean water.
I pull out the nightdress, and Castien turns around. I take that as permission to change.
The nightdress is soft linen, long-sleeved and modest, falling to my ankles. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I gather up the food and wine, and bring everything to the table, making myself a plate with bread, hard cheese, dried meat, and dried fruit. Everything tastes perfect, like it was prepared this morning instead of centuries ago.
“The magic preserves everything and makes it safe to eat,” I explain, pouring wine into a goblet. “Not that it’s interesting to you since you don’t eat. Another blessing.”
Castien turns back to face me and places his arms on the table.
“I often forget to eat,” I tell him between bites. “When I did research or studied for an exam, I’d get so focused I’d come close to fainting before I remembered I was hungry.”
“Why would you punish yourself like that?”
I laugh.
“It wasn’t punishment. It’s just the way I function when I’m stressed out. Or don’t function, more like.”
The wine is old and strong, and I can feel it working fast, warming me up and relaxing my muscles. I’m lightweight when it comes to alcohol, and half a bottle is enough to make me bold. It’s also making me hot in other ways, heat pooling low in my stomach every time I catch Castien’s eyes on me.
When I’m finished eating, I lean back in my chair and study his face.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think of me? Really think, not what you’re supposed to say as my bodyguard.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Yes, you are. And you’re not supposed to be able to lie or ignore direct questions, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“So, tell me. What do you think of me?”
He’s silent, but I’m patient. It’s the wine’s fault for how playful I feel, wanting to tease him. But I’m also serious. I want to know.
“I think you’re intelligent,” he says. “Brave to the point of recklessness, and stubborn beyond reason. You argue with everything, including concepts that have existed for centuries.”
