Cheeks already flushed from the alcohol, I nodded.
He’d been extra kind to me today, though I wasn’t sure how he’d discovered that it was my birthday. He’d greeted me with well-wishes when I entered the training grounds this morning, Blake having been absent again, dealing with the rebellion, which I’d heard through whispers at the palace was growing rapidly in size and in violence.
“Can I buy you another ale then, Rubi?” Jace smiled, all disarming boyish charm. He was nearly impossible not to like, friendly and good-natured, and so very handsome.
“That sounds lovely.”
—
My feet stumbled slightly intothe wall again—both Jace and Quinn had offered to escort me back to my rooms, but I’d said I’d find it on my own.
I was regretting that now, as no matter how many times I put one foot in front of the other, the hallway only seemed to grow and grow. My lips felt almost numb, pressed together in a slight smile as I hummed the melody from the tavern song they were all singing when we left.
Or was it before—
“Rubi?”
I spun, slamming my shoulder into the stone.
Blake Axefire, in the hallway, still in his under-armor.
He looked even more drained than he had the night he’d comeupon me ribbon dancing, his shoulders slumped lower, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. There was a small cut in his eyebrow that he’d gotten in training a few days ago that had opened back up, though the blood wasn’t running.
Still, his brows were dipped down, like he was concentrating hard—or angry.
“Oh no, are you annoyed with me again?” I said, my voice slurring lightly. “You’re not allowed—it’s my birthday.”
I was mostly sure I pointed my finger at him as I said it, his form growing larger as he got closer, entering into my space entirely.
“It’s your second Zodiac?” he asked, his voice quieter than mine.
I nodded, eyes slowly scanning up his throat, over his tense jaw, and toward the ice blue eyes that were so often cold. But not now. Now they looked younger, gentler.
Or maybe it was the alcohol making me see things.
“What are you doing, Rubi?”
“I’m going to my rooms,” I said, before stumbling again. This time, instead of hitting the stone walls, I was swept up in warm arms.
Blake Axefire, the Twin Blade of the king, was carrying me.
“I don’t need help,” I weakly protested. Blake said something, his chest rumbling louder against my ear than his words, so I missed what he said. “I can walk.”
“Of course. You were doing such a good job.” His voice was filled with sarcasm.
My brow furrowed, fingers drawing shapes on the fabric covering his chest. “I was?” The light glinted off the stubble on his cheek, so many pretty metal shades: bronze, gold, copper, even some silver. I reached my finger out and stroked it, soft and then rough, soft and then rough. Blake sighed heavily. He stopped, maneuvering me as he opened the door to, I assumed, my room.
“No guards,” I said through a yawn.
Blake set me on the bed, pulling back the large comforter for me. I snuggled down easily.
“What?”
“There’s no guards tonight to keep me from escaping.”
Blake sat on the edge of the bed then, close to me. It reminded me of the first time I’d woken up in this room.
Eyes slipping closed again, I fought to stay awake.
