Page 40 of Skyshade
Look where that had gotten her.
She was lonelier than ever, out of necessity. It wasn’t like Grim hadn’t tried to seek her out. Along with her favorite flowers, her favorite foods had been brought by attendants. He knew them all, and she didn’t think too hard about that fact.
The plates were all empty now, and she craved a bit of comfort. Something warm and sweet that would make her forget, for just afew moments, that there were only a couple of months left of winter.
It was long past midnight. She left her room, stepping carefully over the built-up pile of flowers, intending to find the kitchens. The halls were empty.
She walked through them, taking the long way to avoid the room Grim had been staying in, since he had given her his quarters. Part of her wanted to go there, to seek comfort in him, but no...her heart was too confused already. What she longed for was a friend.
What she longed for was a home.
There was an emptiness in her that had always existed. A place where perhaps a mother or father or friend would have gone. Celeste had filled it for a time, but she hadn’t been real.
So much hadn’t been real.
She remembered the carving on the augur’s wall. Her, looking the part of the vengeful snake-queen the people here believed her to be. She could almost see the serpents now, slithering around her arms. Hissing. She could almost feel them, cold scales slipping against her skin, even though she had returned the serpent she often wore to Wren an hour ago. It felt almost familiar. Almost right.
She turned the corner and hit something solid. Before she knew it, she was pressed against a cold wall. Her hand reached toward her blade on instinct but was pinned by her side before her fingers could curl around the hilt.
Grim rippled into visibility before her. His grip on her wrist was loose. She could easily escape it, but she didn’t. She remained very still, even as his thumb gently brushed across her pulse. It was getting faster. He could feel it. He tilted his head, looking down at her with a preternatural focus.
She was grateful she had scrubbed the blood from her skin, from her hair, from her clothes; but under his unrelenting gaze, she wondered if he knew where she had been. If he knew that while itseemed she worked for his realm’s benefit, she was also making plans without him.
She lifted her chin. “Following me?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Always.”
He leaned down, and she didn’t move a muscle, even as his lips inched closer. Closer. She swore her traitorous pulse must be hammering beneath his thumb, because his mouth curled in wicked amusement. Part of her wanted him to bridge the gap between them. Part of her wanted any comfort he could offer her, especially now, especially with everything falling apart. Instead, his lips swept past hers, dragging across her cheek all the way to her ear to say, his voice like a finger down her spine, “You’ve been avoiding me.”
She swallowed. He traced the movement of her throat with his gaze. “I’ve been trying to get information. About...about the portal.” It wasn’t completely a lie. She kept her emotions steady.
His lips were still inches from her ear. He leaned in, as if he could smell her feelings, as if he could taste them. Lower. His mouth pressed ever so gently against her pulse. She didn’t think she was breathing.
Then, he abruptly pulled back. Stared down at her, with eyes filled with something like fury. Something like worry.
“What happened?”
Of course he could sense her sadness.
She said nothing. She wondered what he would read into that—if it would make him suspicious of her comings and goings—but, if anything, he only looked more concerned.
He couldn’t have known she had been looking for the kitchens, but that was where he brought her, before she could blink.
Without saying a word, he began preparing something, moving around the room in a familiar, practiced way.
The words stumbled out of her. “You cook?”
He pretended to look offended by her surprise. “Is that really so hard to believe?”
“Yes,” she said, leaning against a counter. The dark stone was cold against her spine.
His gaze slipped down her body for just a moment, and she became aware that she had left her room in one of the nighttime outfits from her wardrobe, two small pieces of silk that left swaths of skin uncovered. His eyes darkened.
Then, he turned back to what he was doing. She watched as his hands worked quickly. Diligently. He was chopping something up and putting it in a pot. She couldn’t see exactly what it was. What she could see were his broad shoulders. His muscled back.
He faced her again, and she quickly shifted her gaze. “I learned during training. I often found myself alone. If I wanted to eat...I needed to cook.”
She knew little about his upbringing, other than a few mentions of it in the past. She knew he had undergone extreme training to be a warrior. It was difficult to imagine him without the comforts of his castle.
