Page 23 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
No,Aislinn told herself.Not tonight, Cass. I’m enjoying myself.
If Cass could hear her thoughts, she would probably have stuck out her tongue and laughed.
It helped to think of that.
After dinner was done and cleared away, Flora supplied Aislinn with a fresh draught of whatever passed for pain relief, which was just as well as her middle was beginning to ache.
The drugs made her drowsy, though, and within minutes she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Someone was playing a flute. Sweet, piping music swept through the room, transporting her to somewhere else. Music was a strange thing, she realised. An ordinary kind of magic. It shouldn’t hold such power over her.
“Oh dear, looks like the young princess has fallen asleep,” said a gravelly voice.
The music stopped.
“Someone should put her to bed,” said a soft one.
“Let the boy do it.”
“Me?” Caerwyn’s voice replied. “But—”
“We’ve strength lad, but there’s no denying she’s… awkwardly shaped. Far too long.”
“Keep your gloves on,” Bell said, as if sensing some unspoken argument.
Aislinn didn’t understand why that was important, or why she couldn’t open her mouth to protest, to insist she could carry herself. She certainly didn’t understand the impulse to throw her arms around Caerwyn when he swept her into his arms, or why her hands balled into his clothes.
He inhaled sharply, holding his breath. The heat of him brushed her face.
She liked being against him, liked the shape of him, the broad, sturdy warmth. When was the last time she was carried like this?
You don’t like being carried,she reminded herself.You like being able to stand by yourself.
But she liked this.
She was aware of being moved, of the journey being over far too quickly, of boots being removed and blankets folded over her.
“You’re nice,” she whispered, voice as muggy as her thoughts. “Warm.”
Caerwyn sighed, hovering beside her. There was the ghost of a touch at her temple.
“It’s best you don’t remember that,” he whispered.
Her hand reached out and grabbed his sleeve, pinning him above her as he tried to move away. She didn’t want him to go. She felt like a child in the dark, and he was the lantern falling away from her.
“Thank you,” she responded.
“You’re welcome.”
Caerwyn slunk out of the room. Aislinn lay in her bed, not fully sleeping, her thoughts turning mushier. People moved upstairs. Someone helped Caerwyn unroll his bed.
“Caught some birds today,” Diana’s voice sounded. “Dead, unfortunately. No good for the princess. Thought they might be of use to you, though.”
Caerwyn went silent. After a long moment, Diana sighed. “Caer,” she whispered, “you cannot run from this forever.”
“I can try,” Caer hissed.
Aislinn’s thoughts folded inwards.
Anotherdayhadpassed,and there had still been no word from Aislinn. Beau was growing desperate. He’d told his father about overhearing Owen’s odd conversation, of course, but Hawthorn had brushed it off.
