A flush of heat moved through me, hitting me right in the heart. “It’s fine.”
Caius continued to stare at me before he dropped the subject. He stepped toward the table and looked at the partially made bow. “Need help?”
“I’m trying to find something for the string.”
“What about the bow?” He looked at Morco’s handiwork and tested the wood, which had been expertly carved and sanded down with a rock.
“Need to figure out how to make the wings bend back for the string.”
His fingers roamed over the weapon, testing the wood and the flexibility. “Heat releases stiffness in muscles and bones. I bet it’ll do the same with wood. I’ll heat it and bend it into place. Once it cools, it might hold its place.”
“Worth a shot.”
He took the bow to the bonfire and constructed a way to heat it over the flames, high enough above the fire so it wouldn’t burn or harden, just absorb the heat.
I focused on the fibers again, continuing my braiding of strands. Some were stretched farther, while others were hardy, but I knew they each needed a combination of the different attributes to remain strong under tension.
I weaved it into a long string and secured each with a knot near the end to keep the braid in place. When I looked back at Caius, he reached for the bow then pulled on the wings, bending them back with far more flexibility. He tested the other end before he brought it back to me. “It’s working. Now we need something to keep it bent so it can set into place. Got any ideas?”
I tied the string to each of the tips, securing them into triple knots before I tested the bow, pulling hard on the string and watching the tips move with it. “We need something to pull this back, and we need something else to keep this side in place. Someone can’t hold it in place for days.”
Caius stared at the bow as he considered my words, and then a moment later, he was hit with an idea. “Let’s try this.” He left to retrieve other tools, and he came back a moment later and hammered a spike into the surface of the table.
I had no idea what he was doing.
He grabbed the bow and set it down with the inside of the string against it. Then he hammered another spike into the table before he gently pulled on the bow and hooked it over the second stake. The bow bent into place, the string holding the tension and the wings bending where they should. “Like that?”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
“Alright, then let’s leave it for a couple days. It should set by then.” He took the seat across from me and examined the box between us. “If only we’d had something like this before, I wonder what would have been.”
I lacked the proper words to respond to that, but I could relate to the sentiment. I’d wondered what could have been many times. If I’d just made a different decision, if my mother had survived childbirth, if my father had died later and I was married when he passed. Morco’s face popped into my mind, and I was suddenly grateful that alternate reality hadn’t come to pass…even if it would have prevented all this suffering. “At least we have it now.”
Several days passed, and I didn’t see Morco.
He told me he would come to me when he was healed. I took that to mean he wanted to be alone while he recovered. I respected that request and kept myself busy. Now, I was in my cabin after a long day, the fire burning low because I only put one log into the fireplace. If it burned too bright, the room would get too warm, so I always kept it tame.
My cabin was a small room. Just a single bed, a fireplace, a tub, and a little table with two chairs. There was a rug on the floor made of wolf skin. It was nice to have the privacy, but I did miss the luxuries of home—the lights from the chandeliers, the windows with spectacular views, the fresh-baked bread from the ovens.
A knock sounded on my door and shattered my longing.
I’d bathed and combed my hair, but I was in the clothes I wore when I was alone in my cabin, a loose linen shirt and nothing else. My heart hammered in my chest because only one person would come to visit me at my cabin, especially in the evening. I pulled on my trousers then opened the door—coming face-to-face with dark eyes.
He looked like himself, his skin dry from the lack of sweat, his hair clean and combed back from his face. Healthy color had returned to his skin, and he’d ditched the long sleeves and wore a short-sleeve dark shirt, exposing the scar on his right arm because the bandage had been removed.
He was the closest person to me, but I regarded him in silence because I didn’t know what to say. I felt heat anytime he came near, but now that heat was an inferno because of the circumstances.
Just the two of us…in my cabin.
He didn’t wait for an explicit invitation before he entered and shut the door behind him. His eyes didn’t scan the contents of my cabin to gauge what I’d been doing before he showed up. His intense eyes were on me, and unlike Krull’s stare, his was welcome.
My chest was so tight I could barely breathe. All my bones were stiff. My muscles ached for no reason. The person I trusted most made me feel the most uneasy. But it was a discomfort I enjoyed, a thrill that made my heart race in a very special way.
I finally found words. “I’m glad you’re well.” He was strong again, tall and straight, the muscles in his arms distinct with lines and rivers of veins. When I glanced at his arm, I saw that it had healed. He would carry that scar the rest of his life, but at least he would be alive.
“I’m angry you disobeyed my wishes and put yourself at risk.”
I inhaled a slow breath and braced for a lecture.
