“I lock it now,” I told him. “After Solentine.”
Everard came back. He was dressed in black, and in the gentle light of the lanterns, he looked like a wraith woven from the night shadows.
“May I stay and watch over you?”
I wanted so much to say yes. Now, in the quiet of the bedroom, the ghost of the Butcher stirred, hiding in dark corners, waiting in the gloom under the bed. It would be so nice to fall asleep knowing Everard was right here.
I’d already hugged him and cried on top of him. That part of the carriage ride was a tortured blur. I had crossed every line, and I needed to reassert a boundary. What happened in the carriage had to stay in the carriage.
I needed to thank him for his kind offer and tell him I would be fine.
I wasn’t fine.
“Yes.” I would regret this moment of weakness later, but right now I needed him to be here, or I would start screaming.
He got a chair from the study, brought it in, and placed it by my bed.
“Lanterns on or off?”
“On.”
I wasn’t ready for darkness. Not yet.
He nodded and sat in the chair.
“Rest well. You are safe.”
I pulled the blanket over myself.
A faint rustling came from under my bed. The little stelka crawled onto the covers, hissed at Everard, and curled up next to me. Her cold nose nudged my side. I petted her soft fur.
For a while I just lay there. I was so tired but sleep just wasn’t coming.
“Have you settled on a name for her?” he asked.
“Sushi.”
“Odd but pretty.”
I petted the stelka. The house was quiet.
“Thank you for finding me.”
“This will never happen to you again as long as I live.” He swore it like an oath. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“Did Lute tell you about the man from the Garden?”
“He said you bought him from the Harzi. We’ll talk about that tomorrow, after you rest.”
“The man from the Garden is Silveren.”
“I see.” He said it like he was pronouncing a death sentence.
“If he comes here looking for me . . .”
“If anyone enters this house tonight, even if they appear by magic, I will know and I will kill them.”
“Silveren is a good fighter.”
