Page 63 of A Tongue so Sweet and Deadly

Standing undeservingly straight beside Zaddock beneath the stairs leading up to the wooden double doors, Loche glared at her while Zaddock cast a strange glance between them.

Shaking her head, she tried to get herself to form words and offer him a snarky response, but as she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

Loche fixed his gaze behind her. “She’s about to faint. Aren’t you her guard? You might want to help her before she hurts herself.”

A snarl, too low for Loche to pick up but loud enough for her Fae hearing, rumbled behind her before strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her off the horse.

Merrick’s eyes closed when she glanced up at him, anger fighting over his features as he hissed between his teeth, “Look away. I won’t warn you again.”

Too exhausted to fight with him, she let her eyes close as Merrick easily shifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs.

“We will never speak of this again,” she whispered as the warmth of the castle wrapped around her, light flickering over her closed eyelids.

He didn’t respond, only continued carrying her through the hallway leading to their rooms.

As one of his arms released her, she prepared her feet to meet the floor, praying she’d stay upright once he set her down, but he easily kept her tucked against his chest with his other one as he opened the door to what she hoped was her bedroom.

When he set her down on the soft bed, she cleared her throat. “Can I open my eyes now?”

As silence stretched on, she sighed. “I can’t see if you’re nodding or doing that little chin dip you consider nodding.”

When he still said nothing, she cautiously opened an eye, finding her room empty.

Confused, she trailed her eyes across the softly lit bedroom.

The lanterns she’d brought in before they’d left were all lit: one on her bedstand, one on a chair halfway to the bathing chamber, and two on the wall beside the door.

The door to Merrick’s room was closed, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t hear him grumbling inside.

Light also trickled out of the small marble bathing chamber. Rising on shaky legs, she stumbled toward the chair, using it to rest for a few moments before she braved the final steps.

Steam rose from the already full tub, and she silently thanked whoever had anticipated her need for a bath. Too tired to remove her clothing, she gripped the side of the bath and stepped in, fully dressed.

A moan escaped her as she emerged, the warm water feeling like a caress from a loved one.

Sinking deeper into it, she fumbled with her tunic and leathers and slowly—so slowly—slipped them off.

A few colorful soaps were lined up on the windowsill next to the bath, and drawing up the last of her energy, she reached for the closest one and poured the purple liquid right into the water until white foam covered the surface.

With trembling hands, Lessia washed off the dirt, blood, and sweat she’d accumulated the past two weeks until reddish-brown residue replaced the foam and the water chilled so much the echo of her teeth chattering bounced off the white walls.

Staring at a thick towel laid out on a chair by the door, she told herself she could walk the three steps it would take her to wrap herself in it.

But her hands slipped as she wrapped them around the edge of the tub, and she swore quietly when her legs wouldn’t bend the way she needed to get out.

Glaring up at the ceiling, she cursed again—louder this time.

She wouldn’t die in a stupid bathtub.

Not after surviving in that cabin.

Not after surviving the streets of Vastala, for gods’ sake.

The muscles in her arms screamed as she used them to pull herself over the edge, and a loud thump reverberated through the room as she fell to the hard floor. Her entire body convulsed with shivers from the cold wood, and she grimaced, as she’d surely left herself with a few bruises from the fall.

Unable to get to her feet, Lessia crawled across the floor, her vision going in and out, until she reached the towel.

Out of breath, she pulled at it, laid it on top of herself as best she could, and rested her forehead against the chippedwooden boards lining the floor as the towel dried her back while water from her hair dripped down between the planks.

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