Korr is watching me when I open my eyes.
I’m on my side, knees drawn up, hands fisting the blanket, and he’s across the bed with his head resting on his pillow, facing me. He stayed on his side through the whole night, and he now holds my gaze with open, unhurried tenderness that sends blood to my face before I’m fully awake.
He’s my husband. He bought me at the bride market, and he’d be well within his rights to ask things from me. He hasn’t asked for anything.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Good morning.”
“How are you feeling?”
He sits up, swings his legs off the bed, and stands. He rolls his shoulders back, stretches his arms wide, tilts his neck to one side, then the other.
“I’m feeling great.”
I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s so broad that he blocks the window behind him. His arms are thick with muscles under the rough skin, and every line of his body is perfectly defined. He’s built for work that would break a human body, and watching him stretch and roll his joints, I understand why the women in the Narrowhalls talk about him. Julie called him one of the hottest golems in Steinheim, and watching him now, I can’t argue with her.
I notice that the cracks on his skin look shallower than they did yesterday. The moss and lichen in the fissures along his arms have thinned, the patches smaller than I remember from even the day before. I have no idea what it means because I don’t know enough about golems. But I notice, because I’ve beenstaring at my husband for a good while now, and when that thought catches up to me, I blush.
“Would you like breakfast?” he asks.
I get out of bed fast, smooth my dress down with both hands, and shake my head.
“I want to check in on a friend today.”
“I understand.” He nods. “What about lunch?”
“I’d love to have lunch together. I’ll bring something from the Narrowhalls for both of us.”
I slip out of his room and down the corridor to mine, close the door, and press my back against it.
I didn’t lie to him. I do want to see Vicky. I haven’t seen her for a few days now, and I’m constantly thinking about her. But I also turned down breakfast because I’m overwhelmed. I slept in his bed, woke up to his intense eyes watching me, and I can feel something shift in my chest. I feel pulled toward him. More than I expected, more than I’m ready for. Am I falling for him? I’m attracted to him, that much is settled.
He’s kind, gentle, and shy. He stumbles over his words when he tries to tell me I’m pretty and turns bashful when I touch his arm. And when he stands at his full height, he’s this massive, powerful creature who could carry me with one arm and not break a sweat. It’s like his personality and his body don’t match, because in my experience, the bigger the man, the crueler he is.
I wash my face at the basin, change into a clean dress, and pull my hair back. As I adjust the sleeves, my fingers catch on the bracelet. I smile.
I cross through the living room on my way out and can hear the water running behind Korr’s door. He’s probably taking a bath, and I imagine him in the tub, body relaxed, head resting on the edge, the water gently lapping at the planes of his chest. I shake my head and slip into the corridor, hurrying toward the lift.
The Narrowhalls are busy, but I know where I’m going. Danielle and Julie pack tinctures for Vicky and send them to her house, so I know her address. I follow the corridors past the market stalls and the Pickaxe until I find the right door.
I knock and wait. Knock again. After a few minutes, the door opens a crack. Vicky’s face appears in the gap, half-hidden by her hair. She grabs my wrist and pulls me inside, then shuts the door fast behind us.
The house is dark – curtains drawn, lamps turned low – but spotless. The floors are scrubbed, the shelves dusted, and every dish put away, every surface wiped clean. Vicky keeps this house sparkling, and I recognize the habit because I had it too. When everything else is out of your control, you scrub the kitchen floor until your knees ache, because at least that you can make perfect.
“What are you doing here?” Vicky asks in a frightened tone.
“I wanted to see you. The last time I saw you, you seemed distressed. I’ve been worried.”
“I’m fine.”
She keeps her head down. Her hair falls across her face, and she won’t look at me.
I step closer. Her glance darts to mine for a second, and I see it: a bruise along her jaw, dark at the center, fading to green at the edges. I close the distance between us and touch her face, my fingers light against the mark.
“Are you okay? Don’t lie to me, and don’t lie to yourself. You don’t have to do anything about it, but let your friends help you. Let us be here for you. Everyone is worried.”
Her eyes fill with tears.
