Page 74 of When the Sky Breaks

“Go find dinner,” he said bluntly. “Do a better job than last night.”

Ansel left in a huff.

Neal called for hot water, even though I protested I was tired and wanted straight to bed.

“I can see the blood on you still,” he said. I checked in the dust-coated mirror, and my skin was clean. “Not literally. But I can see it on your face from when you vomited. I can feel the machine-shop grime when I hold your hands, Sorcha, and the dust from the library in your hair. And I know it’s not there, not really. But just, humor me? Please, love?”

So I unbuttoned my dress, unlaced my corset and sank gratefully into the steaming water.

“Okay,” I admitted, “while this was probably unnecessary, I will admit it’s very nice.”

He knelt beside me and went immediately stiff when he saw the dappled bruises on my shoulders, the ring of dark purple blossoming around my wrist. The ones on my back were from Ansel. The ones on my wrist were from him. This day had been hell on all of us. Neal shuddered, grabbing a cloth and running soap over the bruises like he could wash them away.

“Now come on,” I encouraged, hoping to break him out of whatever distraught place his mind had settled. “It’s a real, big, fancy, European bathtub. There’s room for both of us.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

“Please?” I asked, eyes gleaming and a smirk playing at my lips. “I can’t ask for a bath with my husband?”

Neal chuckled and relented, discarding his clothes and climbing into the tub with me.

“That’s better,” I said, curling up and leaning back against his chest. “Might as well get proper use of the water.”

“Yes,” Neal admitted. “This is very nice.”

“Told you,” I laughed. “Now. You are my wise and devoted Steward. Tell me what to expect when we get to New York.”

“How much did your family socialize with other Elven nobility back in Santa Fe?” Neal asked.

“There wasn’t anyone local really,” I said. “We’d have little get-togethers with the guys who did security. But most of Santa Fe is just humans. And even then it’s small. The Court would officially host other dignitaries sometimes. But usually it was only men. And they’d always just smoke around the fire.”

“Well, in big population centers,” Neal said, “where there’s more density in the Elven population as well, the nobles like to show off. So they host balls, parties, all that. I have been to more than I can count over all the years of training. It’s big in Europe. But here on the East Coast too. You know—New York, Washington, Savannah.”

“So when we get to the East Coast and stay however long it takes to research and prove out that Iksura’s claim is illegitimate . . .”

“We will probably have to attend at least two,” Neal said, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

I sank lower into the water and curled closer against his chest.

“But I hate people,” I muttered.

“You love people,” Neal chided.

“I love you,” I corrected. “I loved my mom. I would have loved my baby brother. I tolerate Glen and Nokona and Ansel. And I like my cats.”

“Cats aren’t people,” Neal chuckled.

“Maybe not to you,” I mumbled.

“And your dad?” Neal pressed.

I snuggled closer against him before replying. “Not really. He wasn’t there when I needed him—over and over. The grief ruined him, both as a parent for me and as the High Lord. We shouldn’t have stayed in Santa Fe. He shouldn’t have isolated us the way he did. Look at how much it’s costing us now. Look at how much risk it puts on our work. It’s hard to love someone who spent twenty years ignoring how their decisions might harm the people around them, the people who depended on them.”

“Wise and fair,” Neal replied softly.

He relaxed, hands tracing along my scalp to untangle my braids. Then suddenly he froze, eyes locking on the suds floating atop the bathwater, a few of which were streaked with blood from the cut on my hand.

“Where are you bleeding?” Neal asked, voice snapping into that place of near-manic protectiveness in an instant. I held up my hand, blood-streaked handkerchief now soaked with bathwater.