Mistaking my hesitance for reluctance, his narrowed gaze snapped to me. "Whatdid you hear?"
The repeated question was low and menacing, sending a chill racing down my spine as I stumbled over the words. "I—you couldn't hear what was said?"
He muttered something that sounded awfully like “uneducated Solerians” beneath his breath before he explained, "Only the person receiving the prophecy can hear what is said.”
Relief soared through me, my hands ringing together as I glanced once more at his mother, still sitting in the chair. Her eyes were back to normal, hazy perhaps from her memory loss, but green again. "Something about a girl that is lost that will be found and a choice that lies in wait."
That was the most I was giving him.
His brows knitted together, dark gaze assessing the half-truth before he simply let out a huff and turned his back to me. Leaning down he whispered something to his mother, too low for my ears to hear, as he smoothed back her white hair.
The tender gesture seemed odd coming from someone whose walls were a fortress that seemed impenetrable.
"Has your assessment finished then?" He asked coolly, straightening.
I gave him a curt nod before I responded, "Yes I believe I have enough information.”
He gripped beneath my elbow and led me to the door, his eyes never meeting mine.
The walk down the steps was nearly as tortuous as the walk up them, however this time he walked ahead. So at least if I tumbled down them, I’d take the brooding man with me and hopefully have something to cushion my fall.
I didn't dare attempt to strike up another conversation for fear of the foul mood pouring from him. I wouldn't put it past him to really toss me over the railings if I annoyed him enough in his current state.
It wasn't as if I had meant to do all of that; he could have warned me that touching his mother’s skin would induce a prophetic state. It wasn't as if Luanthian magic was taught in schools or widely known these days, and I had been far too young to remember everything my mother had taught me of our people. Not that he would even know I hadanyknowledge of Luanthian-blessed magic.
Stalking past the guard at the bottom of the staircase, his steps were quick and furious in their pace, leaving me to practically jog to keep up with him. I struggled for nearly five minutes before I stopped in the middle of the hall, hands moving to my hips as I glared at his broad back.
"Roan Delmar."
I was very close to regretting my decision when he came to a sudden stop, his back tensing. I could practically see the muscles coiling beneath his black linen shirt, and my mouth went dry. Before I could completely be wiped of my courage, I quickly caught up to him, rounding his body so we were face to face.
More like face to chest, but I lifted my gaze, my chin held high.
He was like ice, glittering and frozen as he stared back, cutting through any anger I had let bubble inside and flaying me open to my core. My shoulders slumped the tiniest hint as my hands fisted in my robes.
"I'm sorry." At the indignant laugh he let out, I barreled past whatever he was brewing to say. "I truly did not know that touching her skin would cause that, it was never my intention. I also saw how frustrated you were when I was playing into what she was saying about your father.”
His silence spurred me on. "I have learned that it is easier and far less traumatic for the people that I treat, with issues similar to your mother’s, to go along with whatever stage of life they believe they are in. There is no cure for it, Roan. It is easier this way, than to fight everyday to convince her of the pains of a reality that her mind has already chosen to let go of. You will spend the rest of her life fighting for her to remember things that she has no need to remember. She will forget it again before the sun rises and you'll be back to square one."
I took a hesitant step forward, my hand reaching out and before I could think better of it I rested it against his arm, the muscle tightening beneath my touch.
"No matter what you think of me, know that I would never cause purposeful harm to the people under my care, nor will I deny someone treatment for who they are. Luanthian, Solerian, convert—illness does not care, so l do not either. If your mother needs my help, I will do everything in my power to make her as comfortable as she can be."
Silence followed my declaration, but I felt him physically relax inch by inch as his peculiar eyes searched my face for even a hint of deception. He would find none. I meant every word. After what felt like minutes, I finally cleared my throat, hand dropping back to my side as I took a step away from his imposing figure.
"Now, can we leave this place without me having to sprint after you? I might not believe in ghouls, but I wouldn't want to tempt fate by getting left behind and lost in these halls." I shuddered at the thought as he fell into step beside me, his lips tilting in a teasing smirk.
"Scared of the paranormal?" He asked, eyes glancing sidelong.
Raising a brow, I hummed. "It doesn't scare you?"
"I find the living to be far more terrifying than the dead."
I fell quiet at that, he certainly had a point there.
We eventually made it to the entrance when he turned to me again, leaning against the wall before the large doors. "Do you study in the mornings?"
The ordinary question caught me off guard. “No, I typically study for the trials in the afternoons or evenings, why?"
