Even when I knew that moment might be my last. It had been the darkest point in my life.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and sagged against the pillows. When I’d tried to escape, his guards had caught me. And now here I was, in a strange land, in an even stranger man’s bed.
But maybe, just maybe, there was another way to be free of it all. A backup in case I failed to fulfill my quest. If I helped Rivelin win the Midsummer Games, perhaps I could beat him to the punch and ask the island givemethe gift. The only thing I’d ever wanted: freedom.
I would never have to look into Isveig’s face again. When the ships came, I could just sail to wherever I dreamed. My life would be mine and no one else’s.
The thought tasted like berries on a warm summer’s day. And with that hope in my heart, sleep called me away.
* * *
Ahammer beat the walls. Disoriented, I jerked up from the bed, my eyes swimming as I stared at the unfamiliar room. My rich, silken sheets from my tower bed were gone. The plush settee where I spent hours flipping through bakery books was nowhere to be found. Even the drab light from the ever-present cloud had been replaced by a beaming sun pouring in through the window just beside the bed.
I blinked again, taking in the flowers creeping in through the windowpane and the brilliant birdsong and the soft quilt that covered me. This was not my tower.
The knocking sounded again, and memories poured through me. Thuri’s face, troubled on the ship, followed by the storm that blasted us all apart. Me, sputtering as I crawled up the shore. Rivelin, tossing my mother’s dagger into the sea. The bastard.
“Daella?” the elf called out through the door.
“Yes, yes, I’m awake.” I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. “No one would be able to sleep through all your noise.”
“Are you dressed?”
“Do you truly believe I’d risk getting naked anywhere near you?”
A pause. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
The door swung wide and Rivelin stepped into the bedroom. I was immediately struck by how different he looked in the light, how inexplicably…better. His silver hair seemed to glisten, the damp strands curly around his sharply pointed ears. And his eyes, they seemed to glow as bright as the sun itself. Even his tanned skin evoked the hazy feel of summer.
I glanced away before my eyes wandered further south to his broad chest. His light brown tunic was tight enough to highlight his biceps, which were…not small.
“Oh. You’re still in bed,” he said, his voice a bit rough. He was clearly caught off guard, even thoughhe’dbeen the one to storm in onme.
And I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw now when he looked at me? Did I look better in the light, like him? Or worse? My hair was a wreck from the storm.
Not that it mattered.
“Is there something you want?” I asked.
He held up a bundle of linens. “I brought you a towel and some fresh clothes. There’s a bath through the door across the hallway.”
“Oh.” I sighed. “I can’t take a—”
“I’ve put a bag of salt in the bathing chambers. I think it should be enough,” he said gruffly.
I lifted a brow, wondering if I was still asleep and dreaming. “You got me some salt?”
“Don’t get excited. I already had some stocked in my cupboards.” He held up the towel and the clothes. “Now do you want to stop babbling and get clean, or what?”
I gave him my trademark smile. “You, Rivelin the Blacksmith, are a lot softer than you want everyone to believe.”
“If you start thinking that, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” He strode across the room, dumped the clothes on the bed, and walked straight out the door without another word.
* * *
The bathing chambers were far more luxurious than I’d expected. In fact, I’d assumed I’d find nothing but an old, beat-up tin tub full of cold water. Rivelin might have scrounged up some salt for me, but it was unlikely he’d have taken the time to light a fire, heat up the water, and lug it all the way in here. It would take several trips, at least.
And I was right. He hadn’t done any of that. Because he hadn’t needed to.
