Page 80 of Crown of Ashes and Awe

It was a large space, larger than I expected, but that only made it feel more desolate, more empty. My home in the canyon would have fit inside with room to spare.

The bedchamber lay through an archway, separated by a heavy, green velvet curtain instead of a door. Beyond it, the bed was massive, draped in thick furs and layers of quilts. It seemed untouched, as though no one had slept in it for ages. The thick wood bedposts and canopy were intricately carved, though the details were worn smooth by time, much like everything in the parts of the palace I’d seen thus far. I ran my fingers over a spray of flowers, feeling the grooves where some ancient craftsman had worked. But how long ago?

For both warmth and light, the fire was open to the bedroom as well, though someone had lit a candle on a table beside the bed. Its tiny flame shed little light in comparison, and I felt an instant kinship to it. In the grand scheme of the day, I had contributed so little…

As had happened many times in recent years, the crackling fire only made me feel lonelier. So, I was grateful when the silence was broken by a long line of servants delivering a deep tub and enough water to fill it. And I was able to hush my self-pity while I bathed and dressed in clean nightclothes. It didn’t take much food to fill my knotted stomach, though I was grateful for each bite.

The fire had quieted. I was able to hear my own breathing. And I admitted the problem with my luxurious accommodations was this—it was just another jail cell in a place I didn’t belong.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. The furs brushed soft beneath my fingers like a pet craving affection, and I considered sleep. I was weary, yes, but I was even wearier of being alone.

With my key and my drawing of Demius hidden in one of my boots, I donned a pair of slippers and escaped into the hallway with a hooded candle in hand. But it wasn’t just companionship I wanted. It was Tearloch. I just prayed he felt the same.

I found the nerve to knock on a door. Sweetie answered wearing clean, exquisite robes of brown and gold. Minkin stood behind him and invited me in. I declined and left them to their privacy. Sweetie didn't know which door was Tearloch's, but with a wink encouraged me to keep trying.

The dark paneled hallway was filled with shadows from statues, tables, candelabras, and paintings in deep, carved frames. The lush red carpet looked like so much blood confined within straight lines.

I stopped to stare at a painting of a beautifully detailed black dragon exhaling fire onto a uniformed man who sheltered behind a shield. Though it protected his entire body, the edges were turning orange. He wouldn't last much longer.

Only Zelan hadn’t been allowed a shield…

I wanted to rip the painting off the wall and toss it in one of the half-dozen small fires I'd seen as we’d marched through the hallways. But even that wouldn't save the man.

Is my mind turning?

Someone touched my shoulder, and I bit back a scream.

Tearloch stood behind me, looking just as frantic as I felt. His untethered dark hair was damp and he wore clean white sleeping clothes. His feet were bare and his chin was shaved smooth. He smelled of memory leaves and staunchberries. I thought he might take me into his arms, but instead, he wrapped his warm hand around mine and pulled me along the corridor, all the way back to my room. Once we were inside with the door closed behind us, he tugged me against him, wrapped his arms around me, and held me tight.

“How is your head?”

“Not bad.”

“You must rest.”

I nodded.

"I came to find you gone. I panicked."

"I..." I fought for breath, though I didn't want him to let go. "And I was looking for you."

"I'm not leaving you, do you hear? I will sleep on the floor if you prefer, but I'm not leaving you."

I pulled a slow, ragged breath into my lungs and sighed. "We're together. That's all that matters. The nightmare is over."

He finally dropped his hands to my waist and forced a laugh. "I just can't...I can't wake up."

I knew just how he felt. "Well, if you can't wake up, then we'll just have to change the dream."

I led him to the bedchamber. The bathing tub had been removed. The firelight was waning, but there was more wood at hand.

He glanced at the bed but still hadn't smiled. "You mean to seduce me?"

"Whatever it takes to stay in your arms."

His penetrating blue-green gaze warmed me to my bones. "It will take very little, love. Very little indeed."

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