Page 65 of The Devil In Blue
On any other day, I would have smiled, but smiles were foreign at the moment. Instantly, I felt tears welling in my eyes and a lump growing in my throat.
He made me feel like I could have emotions and my body was eager to let loose.
“They told me what happened,” he said. “Are you—”
I stepped into him, burying my face against his broad chest. His warmth soothed my skin and I curled my arms between us trying to soak it all up. Without even questioning me, Petris wrapped me in his embrace. Heavens, he was everything.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
No tears had fallen yet, but they teetered so close to the edge.
“That’s not important,” he said.
He turned his face toward my forehead, careful not to rub the hard metal of his mask too hard against my skin. I sighed, relaxing into his body. When I felt thoroughly warmed, I slid my arms out from between us and wrapped them around his waist, savoring the touch of someone who did not expect anything in return.
“I think I was wrong,” I said, my voice muffled against his chest. “About everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything—everyone—they were lying to me.”
“Then… you believe the king?”
“I can’t believe anyone. Not Father Eli. Not Lucien. Not the king. I can only believe myself, but unfortunately, I know nothing,” I laughed humorlessly.
“Perhaps memories will come with time.”
“I don’t care if they do,” I sighed. I pulled back and looked up at him. “I mean, part of me wants it all to come back, but what if I remember and it makes losing what I had that much worse?” I paused and took a deep breath. “Perhaps I should long for new ones. Memories that are mine and no one else’s.”
He hesitated and then slowly lifted his fingers to stroke the line of my jaw with the backs of his knuckles.
“Then start your first memories with rest,” he whispered. “You need it.”
“I’ve been trying. The thoughts chase me from sleep.”
“You must try harder.”
I spoke quickly, nearly cutting him off. “Stay with me?”
He regarded me for a moment like the question had stunned him. I didn’t want to alarm him with the request. It was terribly inappropriate for a woman to ask a man to share her bed, but we’d done it already. And, without Lucien—without that society and that hideous steeple looming over town—I didn’t care about what was appropriate. And I couldn’t imagine climbing under the covers alone again.
I waited and then finally, Petris nodded.
. . .
The last thing I remembered from that awful day was Petris climbing into bed with me, respectfully staying on top of the blankets while I was curled beneath them. His body fit so well with mine, taller by just the right amount so he could cradle the curve of my back as I slept on my side. His heat lulled me to sleep and the gentle tap of his heart on my shoulders kept me that way until my eyes finally opened again.
I knew by the cold chill on my back that Petris had left before I woke. I didn’t mind. He probably had plenty to do and I’d kept him from it all. I slowly rolled over and brushed my arm across the empty space where he’d slept.
Rising, I brushed my hair back from my face and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My bare toes touched the cool marble and I almost yelped, looking around for a pair of house slippers. I saw my little leather ones by the door and walked toward them, sliding my feet inside before freshening up with a washbowl near my bed. It was filled with fresh water sprinkled with rose petals and I suspected that was all Petris. His thoughtfulness was a godsend.
I walked out of my room, not keen on keeping myself cooped up all day. I’d been cooped up my whole life—at least, the life I could remember—and I refused to self-inflict that loneliness.
My first instinct was to head to the kitchen where I knew I’d be able to find some kind of snack to fill my empty stomach. Until someone outright told me I was a prisoner, I assumed I still had the freedom to do as I pleased in Rune’s palace, and that included feeding myself when I felt the need.
When I entered the kitchen, I smelled something divine being prepared. I expected to finally see the kitchen staff, but still, no one was around. There was stew on the stove though and I smelled the fresh scent of bread in the oven. I took a deep breath only to feel my stomach rumble.
Near the very end of the table with his back turned was Petris with half a pig and a cleaver in his hand. He drew it back and slammed it against its thigh once. Twice. He severed it and then rolled his shoulders back as if he was stiff. Specifically, he stretched his right shoulder like it was truly bothering him and it made me pause.
