Page 30 of Her Dark Reflection

I screwed up my nose at the watery soup. ‘I see my teeth are not to be trusted.’

‘You were vomiting blood several hours ago. It’s your stomach I’m worried about, not your teeth.’ She tucked a small, white box onto the side table, which drew my interest immediately. ‘Finish your soup first, or I’ll not let him send you any more little boxes,’ she said when she caught me looking.

After she had served the other patients—beef stew for them, from the smell of it—she left us to eat, returning sometime later to collect the trays and bid us all goodnight. I felt a sense of relief as she dimmed the lanterns, knowing that now I could sneak away to my room. Senafae would be startled to see me, but I would tell her I’d come to retrieve some face cream.

I listened to the sounds of the other two patients shifting in their beds, and when the sound of deep, even breaths replaced the rustle of sheets, I pushed myself up and readied to leave.

A shifting shadow caught my eye, and I froze. Someone was coming through the door, someone stealthy, almost completely silent. My breath caught. Where had the nagwis come from? Surely, it hadn’t wandered all the way from the Shifting Plains into my bed by its own volition. Had someone slipped it into my bed? Had they thought it would kill me? Would they want to finish what the creature’s venom had failed to do?

Had they come to find me now?

The shadow moved across the long room, passing the beds of the other sleeping woman. I lay still as I frantically ran through all the items available within an arm’s reach, settling on the water jug on the side table. I inched my hand towards it as the figure stepped through a shaft of moonlight and a shock of recognition jolted me.

‘For the love of Madeia,’ I blurted through the erratic thumping of my heart, ‘as if I didn’t come close enough to death today without you scaring me halfway back there. What are youdoinghere?’

‘If that is how you thank me for saving your life, I might hesitate next time.’ Draven finished crossing the room in moments with his long-legged stride and leaned over the bed to peer at me. The night rendered his face strange, all sharp angles and unflinching gaze, and I shrank away from the unexpected closeness, suddenly wondering at the state of my appearance.

‘The Grand Weaver saved me,’ I said, smoothing at my hair.

‘That leech couldn’t heal a papercut. You look well enough for someone who should be dead. Though you seem to be playing a risky game with your glamour.’ He straightened up, and I released a pent-up breath before glancing around the room.

‘I still have an hour. I was about to sneak down to my room right before you showed up. You’d better not wake the other patients.’

‘They won’t wake.’ He spoke with utter assurance, which irritated me, but I refused to ask him how he could be so sure.

‘If you’ve come to check whether I’ve delivered on my promise, I have.’ If my tone was a little smug, I couldn’t help myself. ‘The king is besotted with me. Look.’ I reached for the cream-coloured box on my bedside, grateful to have something to focus on other than Draven’s looming presence over my bed.

Draven watched closely as I set the box on my lap and opened the lid. ‘What is that?’

I picked up the knotted pastry and admired the glossy glaze, the scent of rose. ‘King Linus sent for it especially for me. He said I could have anything my heart desired and sent someone all the way to Peak Street to get these.’ I bit into the flaky pastry, moaning as the pomegranate jam hit my taste buds. I had salivated over the pastries in the window at Mrs Mylner’s Patisserie many times, but could rarely justify the exorbitant expense, nor the censure of the lords and ladies who were the regular clientele.

‘That does not look like food fit for recovery.’

‘Well, at least he thought to get me something.’ I smiled sweetly as I licked syrup from my hands.

He pinched a flake of pastry between his fingers and held it up to his face. ‘Butter and sugar,’ he scoffed. ‘I thought your life was gift enough. Forgive me for not plying you with sweets.’

‘I don’t see howyouhad anything to do with keeping me alive.’

His eyes hunted mine, capturing me, holding me in place. ‘Don’t you?’

A memory shivered over me, of cool fingers on my skin, and realisation lifted my brows. ‘You were here last night? Why?’

‘You were dying. I could feel it. So, I came.’ He didn’t seem as though he would deign to give more explanation than that, but when I just stared at him blankly, he continued. ‘Our deal. If you die, there is no chance of it being fulfilled.’

I frowned. ‘Our deal let you know I was dying?’

He flicked a finger beneath my chin and smiled. ‘You charming little thing. You really don’t know anything, do you?’

‘Have you just come to mock me, or do you have some other reason for visiting?’

‘What’s wrong, Rhiandra? Aren’t you pleased to see me?’ He rolled my name around his mouth, pronouncing it slowly, like he was caressing each syllable, as he spied the chair Senafae had occupied earlier and pulled it close to the side of my bed. As he leaned forward to sit, my gaze followed the shadow of stubble along his jaw, ran down his neck, and caught on the hollow between his collar bones.

‘No,’ I said, but the word came out with the husky need of a ferventyes.

A smile flickered at the edge of his lips. ‘You should be. It seems that you’re not managing well on your own. Tell me how a nagwis found its way into your bed.’

‘What, you mean you haven’t asked the beast already? I thought it might be a relative of yours.’

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