Page 62 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

“Are you—”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” His voice is flat. “Good night.”

Dismissed.

I stay in the chair for another hour, watching his back. He doesn’t move or turn.

Eventually, exhaustion wins. I cross to the bed and lie down carefully, staying on my side. I want it to be like last night. His arm around me, his warmth against my back, his breath on my neck. The feeling of not being alone.

But Garrett stays facing the wall rigidly.

I think something changed when Eithne revealed her pregnancy. I saw something close off behind Garrett’s eyes. Maybe it reminded him of his own family, his own responsibilities waiting back in Aelfheim. Maybe seeing a widow carrying her dead husband’s child made this investigation too hard on him.

Or maybe it’s something else entirely.

I’m probably imagining it and reading too much into nothing.

I lie here in the dark, listening to Garrett’s too-even breathing that tells me he’s not actually asleep. Somewhere inside me, I can’t shake the feeling that whatever bridge we built last night just burned to ash.

Chapter Nine

The ride back to the capital is quiet. Garrett hasn’t spoken more than a handful of words since we left the village this morning. It’s unlike the comfortable silence we’ve developed over weeks of working together. This feels like standing at the edge of a cliff in the dark.

I watch him from the corner of my eye as we ride. His posture is perfect as always with his spine straight and hands steady on the reins. But I notice the tension in the set of his shoulders. He simply stares ahead without really seeing the road in front of us.

There’s something wrong with him today.

He’s been like this since we woke up.

Actually, no. He’d been quiet after we returned from Eithne’s house too. I’d attributed it to exhaustion from the investigation, from searching for his missing knights and finding nothing but blood and unanswered questions.

Now I’m not sure.

“Garrett,” I say as Aelfheim’s capital white walls come into view on the horizon, rising like pale bones against the afternoon sky.

“Hm?” He doesn’t look at me.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” The words are quick and clipped.

“We’ll find who’s doing this,” I say, trying to reassure him. “Whoever took Marcian and the others, we’ll track them down.”

He finally glances at me and there’s something in his emerald eyes I can’t quite read. Something dark and distant. It feels like looking into deep water and not being able to see the bottom. Then he seems to catch himself and the expression smooths over. “Sorry. I’m just... tired. It’s been a long few days.”

But I think the thing that’s frustrating him seems to go beyond the stalled investigation. Beyond the missing Valorians and the blood by the oak tree. There’s something else eating at him and he won’t tell me what it is.

I let it drop, but unease crawls up my spine like cold fingers.

We reach the city gates as the sun begins its descent, painting the white stone in shades of gold and amber. The guards wave us through without question. They recognize the Commander of the Valorian. We ride through increasingly familiar streets, through the noble district with its pristine buildings and manicured gardens, toward the palace complex where Garrett’s quarters are located.

The royal palace of Aelfheim sprawls across the eastern quarter of the capital like a small city unto itself. Shade is somewhere on the other side, posted at the royal wing where he guards Queen Rhianelle Wiolant. I wonder briefly if I’ll run into him, but it’s a foolish thought. The palace is massive enough that entire wings can go weeks without crossing paths. Shade might as well be in another kingdom entirely.

We reach the stables as the sun begins its descent. Garrett dismounts smoothly and hands his reins to a waiting stable hand.

“Thank you for your assistance with the investigation,” he says without looking at me.

Well that’s fucking formal… and distant.