Page 11 of Bitten & Burned
Only Quil had kept his distance. He didn’t like to touchme—let alone the amulet.
Nothing bad had happened to any of them.
Vael nodded. “Yeah, let me just go look at it closely back at my office, and I’ll use the fineglass the Arcanum owns—it’s better than mine here.”
He started to rise, but his movement stalled. A wince flickered across his face, and he swallowed hard before trying again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
The shift in his tone tugged me out of my own thoughts. He meant the echo of my pain in his veins.
“Sorry,” I said quietly.
He shook his head, but I knew what he meant.Thatwas the way my pain affected him whenever he drank from me—only a faint echo, but enough to register. He said it was like a headache, though after more than a century without one, I doubted heremembered the sensation well. Still, he felt it. And I hated that he did.
Which was why he was so supportive now. Not that he hadn’t been before he’d started taking it on, but when he felt even a fraction of my pain through my blood, he couldn’t shake the guilt that I lived with it every single day.
Six months.
Six months landed me in the month of Vony: half a year after Ledix, when I’d first been afflicted. It was proof that this curse had straddled seasons and priests’ prayers alike.
Half a year of burning, gnawing, sleepless nights.
Two
GILDED CONVERSATIONS
Caer Voss, Sol, Verdune
1 Ebry, Year 810
“You’re not eating.Is it bad? You can send it back, you know.”
Thalia was talking with food in her mouth again. At least this time, she was covering it, so we didn’t have to see her partially chewed lentil tart.
“It’s fine,” I replied. “I’m eating it, just slowly.”
“It’s a sandwich, Rowena, you’re intended to eat ittogether,” Bram said. “If you eat it piecemeal, it’s not going to taste as good.”
“How about I eat my food and you mind your business, Bram?” The jab was good-natured, and Bram reached over to steal my pickle. He took a large bite, gaze trained on me to gauge my reaction.
“Hey, I was saving that…”
“Yeah? I don’t think we’re going to be here for the heat-death of the universe, so I wanted to eat it before then.” He grinned, and his cheeks dimpled. With his blonde hair and icy blue eyes, hewas often mistaken for a much younger man. He hated it now, but I reckoned he’d probably love it when we were all in our fifties.
I rolled my eyes. “As you were saying, Thalia?”
“If you don’t want the sandwich, send it back, Ro.”
I sighed heavily. “Ilikeit. It’s good. Beetroot bread, grilled pheasant, shallot and sage jam, blackberries on the side… all heavenly. I would talk about the pickle, but it’s gone, and I never got to taste it because some big, annoying bird plucked it off my plate.”
“Good gods,there…” Bram tossed what was left of the pickle at me.
“I don’t want it if you’ve been gnawing on it.” I tossed it back.
“Persnickety…” he replied, throwing it back.
Thalia reached for it and popped it into her mouth with a crunch. “There. Now… do you actually like it or are you too chicken-shit to send it back?”
“I’m not chicken-shit,” I replied. “I’m eating it.”
