Like Yarif’s mother had been. Or maybe Niam and Nera could be themselves here at the keep.
Draylon lifted a spoonful to his mouth, took a tentative taste, and smiled. “This is good.”
Wow, what a smile. It softened the harshness of Draylon’s face. Relaxed, he looked less of a barbarian, and more of an ordinary man.
A very striking ordinary man.
Draylon dropped his spoon into his bowl. “You’re not eating. Are you all right?”
What? Oh. Yarif took a bite, face heating at being caught staring. Then again, why be embarrassed by admiring the attractive man he happened to be married to?
So much had happened so fast, but the fact remained: Draylon had come for Yarif, rescued him, fought outnumbered, and won.
For Yarif.
Yarif managed a few more bites before his attention again strayed to the man across from him. Occasionally, Draylon flexed his shoulder or rubbed at his bandages with the opposite hand. Sometimes he winced.
“How’s your shoulder?” Yarif asked after the fifth or sixth time.
“It’s a bit sore. Thank the God of War, the arrow wasn’t barbed. It could have done a lot more damage.” Draylon looked up. “How’s your back?”
“It’s…fine. Aunt Nera said it’s healing. Mostly bruises, lots of welts, a few cuts.” Yarif shrugged, which only reminded him that he wasn’t completely healed. So many times he’d imagined the situation reversed and Illa receiving lashes, but Yarif couldn’t inflict such pain on anyone.
“May I see?” Draylon quickly added, “After we’ve eaten.” He nodded to Yarif’s half-full bowl. “Eat. You’ve lost weight, and I want you healthy before we even think about leaving this place.”
“So, we’re leaving?” Yarif had reveled in the low-stress environment, hearing stories of his mother, and the mere thought of braving the elements again made him shiver.
“I’m afraid so. The longer we stay away, the more problems we’ll find when we get home.”
Home. Did Draylon mean Renvalle or Cormira? “I’m worried about my brother and sister.”
“So am I, to be honest. I don’t know May well, but something tells me she’ll take care of them as far as she’s able.”
“She will. Too bad I didn’t have her with them the day the soldiers arrived. They’d have gotten away and now live in a village somewhere.” But Yarif wouldn’t have been with them. How were they? Were they afraid with Yarif gone? Were they being taken care of?
Yarif sure hoped so.
After their meal, Draylon checked Yarif’s back, giving a hum of approval. “Yes, healing nicely. I’ve seen men beaten for various reasons, but you didn’t deserve this. Nor to have your beautiful hair taken away.”
“Commander Illa seemed to think I deserved such treatment.” Yarif let every bit of bitterness show, self-consciously running a hand over the mess on his head—a mess Aunt Nera promised to help him sort out later. “I never heard. What happened to her?”
“I killed her.” Not a bit of remorse sounded in Draylon’s words. “And seeing this, knowing what you went through, I’d like to bring her back and kill her again.”
Throughout their time together, Draylon had been nothing but supportive. Even if Draylon’s father had paid to have Yarif tortured and killed. No one knew better than Yarif that sons were not their fathers.
They finally finished their meals and sat sipping their wine, a sweet concoction Aunt Nera called ice wine. She’d winked and added,Tough on the feet, I tell you, stomping ice instead of grapes.The fire crackled in the hearth but probably needed another log. With a full stomach and wine dulling pain, Yarif could relax, if only for a little while.
“Do you have any idea where Illa intended to take you?” Draylon asked.
“I heard her mention Wren a few times. Like, ‘When we get to Wren.’”
“Wren. We’ll have to ask Niam.” Draylon added wood to the fire. “There, that should keep you tonight. Is there anything else you need before I leave?”
Yarif’s mouth went dry as dust. Leaving already? Though sleep called to him, Illa waited for him in his dreams. Dare he ask? “I’m not… I don’t…”
Draylon stepped closer, resting a hand on Yarif’s arm. “Whatever it is, just ask.”
A hard swallow didn’t dislodge the lump from Yarif’s throat. “I… I want you to stay. All night. I mean, we’re both still recovering, but I…” He pulled his courage together and pushed on. For so long, he’d been alone, trying to bear every burden with no one to share the load. While their situation might change over time, at present they shared a goal: survival and righting a few wrongs.
