Page 17 of The Song of Sunrise
“What?” Surely they’ve seen dozens of female bodies much more exposed than this.
“Oh, um, I’ll go next!” Leaf pops a few more grapes into his mouth before jumping from his chair by the fire.
I sit down in the newly emptied seat and finally allow myself to eat. I nibble on a small slice of goat cheese and rip off a piece of crusty bread. Castor’s gaze tracks my moments as I savor each bite.
“Here,” he says gruffly, holding out a goblet of wine and peering at me from underneath those dark lashes.
I pretend not to notice the way our hands brush as I grab the glass.
I take a small sip, letting the notes of blackberry slowly pass over my tongue. “Delicious.”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
“You have good taste.”
“No he doesn't!” Leaf hollers from the bathtub.
“Says the man who made custom rings instead of a cuff!” Castor yells back.
I hadn’t noticed the thick silver cuff around Castors left wrist before. It is adorned with three white channeling stones.Three!He must be a powerful Watcher in order to be able to harness that much Source magic. Even some of the greatest heroes in Tellings are just second-stones. I mask my awe by quickly shoveling a few grapes into my mouth.
“Hey, I love my rings, thank you very much. They go with anything!” Leaf calls back from the tub.
“Looks don’t matter when you break your fingers punching someone.”
Leaf has no retort as he slops from around the half wall with a towel around his waist.
By the Sun Goddess.
Leaf looks like a sculpture, a work of art. His tall, dark body is lean and rippled with more abdomen muscles than I knew existed.
“It’s all yours Cas,” Leaf says.
Leaf waits until Castor’s clothes are added to our pile in the corner before pulling on a string near the door labeled “laundry,” signaling the servants down below via a series of bells. Within a few minutes, two very flirtatious laundry workers grab our clothes, making sure to flounce extremely close to Leaf as they pass. Giggles erupt the moment they close the door.
Leaf seems utterly undisturbed, plopping another grape into his mouth.
Castor joins us after his bath—unsurprisingly the most efficient of us all—pushing back tendrils of wet black hair from his eyes. Pale slabs of muscle flex with every step. Where Leaf is lean, Castor is pure bulk. His waist tapers to a “V” that disappears into his towel, wrapped sinfully low.
Castor helps himself to a slice of bread and fills his goblet before sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace.
I take a long sip of wine and try not to think about anything but the two beyond gorgeous men lounging a few feet away from me. We have been traveling together for a few days under chaotic circumstances. Perhaps taking the time to properly eat and bathe without running from Underlings or nomads has helped me truly see them from a new vantage point.
Okay, and maybe this food is helping my mood. Slightly.
“Is now the time when you finally Tell for us?” Leaf pleads, as per usual every night. “Any song or Tale will do. I’m not picky.”
For the past two days on horseback, I’ve kindly passed on Leaf’s consistent probing to Tell. The idea of it just… hurt too much, like I would never be able to use my voice in that way again. But Marrow would not want that for me. He would want me to keep practicing our art. Keep our history—our truth—alive.
I gulp down the rest of my wine and Leaf refills it immediately, already slipping into a wordless rhythm as if we’ve been friends for ages rather than strangers bonded by trauma.
“How aboutThe Cave of Silence?” I ask. “It’s not a fully finished Tale just yet. Marrow was working on it before he… died.” I choke on the last word.
“TheCave? The actual Cave of Silence where the last Starwatcher disappeared?” Leaf cannot contain his excitement.
“You want me to Tell it or what?”
Their heads nod eagerly.
