Page 100 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“Your craftsmen made fast work of the arm.”
“It’s just a spare until Magna gets into the forge. Half surprised she isn’t there already. She’ll probably start taking apart the temporary one tomorrow at breakfast, telling us how wrong it is.”
Aislinn liked that he could understand Magna, that he’d come so late to give Minerva an arm. There was none of his mother’s frostiness in him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, after her silence continued. “Your chambers are comfortable, I hope? You’re not in need of anything?”
Aislinn shook her head. “The accommodations are most excellent. It has been a long time since I’ve experienced such a comfortable bed.”I just wish I could sleep in it.
“Perhaps you would like a tour?” Tiberius offered.
Aislinn stumbled, searching for her words. “Oh, um, I—”
“Forgive me, you are probably tired and seeking for a way not to appear impolite. I have disturbed your rest. Another time, maybe.”
He escorted her back to her door—he apparently knew where everyone’s was—and bid her goodnight. Aislinn couldn’t bring herself to leave again. Caer was probably already fast asleep. She didn’t want to disturb him.
Even when she so, so badly wanted to be disturbed herself…
She sunk into her bed, the space crisp and cold despite the warming pan that had been placed between the sheets.
All night, she waited for a knock at her door, for a touchable presence, an ember made human.
But it did not come.
He did not come.
The following morning, Caer had every intention of somehow, eventually, finding a moment to be with Aislinn. He wasn’t sure quite what he’d do with that moment, but needed it to happen regardless.
Unfortunately, he overslept, waking to a maid at the door, informing him that breakfast was nearly over and would he prefer something was brought to him instead?
Caer catapulted out of bed, fell into his clothes, and rushed out of the door.
The maid blinked at him, leading him to the dining hall, where the dwarves sat together with Queen Venus.
And her son. He was seated next to Aislinn, telling her something that was apparently hilarious. She was laughing quite a bit.
Caer sank into the last remaining seat and dug into the breakfast laid out on platters in the centre of the room—a coarse, dense bread, a thick pad of butter, more slices of fruit and a thin, crispy meat which was rather delicious and tasted like it was coated in honey. He washed it all down with a mug of some kind of spiced cider.
He wondered at what fruits it was made from, and how it was grown. By the looks of things, Avalinth had remained untouched by the outside for a number of years.
He looked up, feeling a pair of eyes on him, and saw Aeron lurking in the shadows.
Untouched by anyone—apart from him.
“Morning,” said Beau, leaning across him to pour another tankard. “Sleep well? You were up late.”
“Like a rock,” Caer admitted.
“Your hair is all stuck up at the back.”
“It’salwaysstuck up.”
“Well, now it’s less adorable. Here.” He whipped a comb out of his sleeve and attacked the tangles at the back of Caer’s head with deft, careful fingers.
“How long has everyone else been up?” Caer asked, as Beau worked through his hair.
“At least an hour. Ais a bit longer.”
