Page 15 of Powerful

She nods vigorously. ‘I am now.’

‘Good.’ I step aside, offering the room to her. ‘Because it looks like you’ll be sleeping here until further notice.’

‘Oh, no, I couldn’t—’

‘You can. And you will.’

‘No, really, it’s—’

‘Extremely generous, I’m aware,’ I finish for her.

Wiping a stray tear from her cheek, she straightens with determination. ‘Fine. Only if you promise to spend a night in the Fort.’

I nod curtly. ‘Sure.’

‘Shake on it,’ she insists, shoving her uninjured hand at me.

‘You really think that is what will make me keep my promise?’

She wiggles her fingers despite my words, and I shake her soft hand if only so we can move on from this conversation.

‘Okay. It’s settled, then.’ She sniffs again before thoroughly clearing her face of any fallen tears. Then her gaze lands expectantly on me.

‘Right,’ I say, less than enthusiastically. ‘Take the bed.’

She looks bashfully at the crumpled sheets. ‘Oh, I’m used to sleeping on the ground anyway, so I’ll just—’

‘Accept my continued generosity?’ She opens her mouth, but it’s my voice that fills the room. ‘Great. Take the bed.’

Her hands are suddenly planted firmly on her hips. ‘Could I get a please with that demand?’

‘Aw, look who’s finally standing up for themselves.’ I tap my finger against her nose. ‘But no.’

Huffing bangs out of her eyes, she walks hesitantly towards the bed. After a long moment of contemplation, she sits stiffly on the edge of it.

Standing over her, I begin pulling at one of the wrinkled blankets she’s currently sitting on. She all but tips over, sputtering. In response to her objection, I spread the soft fabric on the floor beside the bed. ‘Surely you can sacrifice a single blanket for me.’

‘Surely you could have asked me to stand up,’ she mumbles with a forced smile.

‘Surely you know there is no fun in that.’

Her gaze prickles my skin as I crumple clothing into a makeshift pillow. I struggle to ignore the feel of it, the look on her face. Even in the midst of crying, she managed to glow, as though each tear was a drop of sunlight.

‘You missed a spot.’

My head lifts at the sound of her voice. I raise my eyebrows in question. ‘The coal dust,’ she clarifies. ‘There’s still some on your elbow.’

‘Do stay away, then.’ I frown. ‘I’d rather not be sneezed on again.’

She smiles, snatching the damp cloth from the counter sitting opposite the bed. ‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous.’ Grabbing my arm, she attempts to tug me towards her. And, begrudgingly, I allow it.

She hesitates slightly before swiping the cloth acrossmy arm. The fabric is rough against my skin, though her touch is unsurprisingly gentle. ‘I’m far from fragile.’ I say this in response to each of her tender touches.

‘I know,’ she says softly. ‘There is quite the difference between fragility and delicacy.’

These words are nothing like the hundreds of bubbly ones prior. These words are deliberate, insightful in a way that only she is. ‘So, you think I’m delicate?’

She tilts her head in question. ‘Don’t you want to be handled with care?’

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