Page 45 of War Hour

When Sar had initially mentioned Torryn suggested the garter, I recoiled, incensed at its inappropriateness. But that wasbefore Sar explained what it was for. My face had burned bright red for a few minutes after.

At the end of the labyrinth of halls, we reach what I can only assume is the tower’s entrance. For a heartbeat, I hope that I’m wrong, that we’ll pass the staff scrubbing off the wordsCourt of Monsterspainted across the double doors. But then Sar ducks through, nodding to the guards, who step aside for us.

I hesitate, gulping at the red paint dripping down the wall before hurrying after Sar. She doesn’t acknowledge the smear against her court, but her hand clenches the railing as she ascends the tower’s stone steps.

Sar exits the staircase at the first landing, leading me into a dark and moody living space.

A few couches sit to the left, a dining table and chairs to the right. Tucked into the corner is a colossal kitchen looking over the room. Tall bookshelves surround the space, save for a wall of windows spanning from floor to ceiling.

Hesitantly, I wander to the seating area and run my hand over the backs of the velvet pillows. From where I stand, the windows look out over the ocean. Humming to myself, I can’t help my whisper of a smile.

I suppose one good thing about living on a peninsula is almost every room is an ocean view.

“Do you like the ocean?” Sar asks, seemingly having struggled to come up with a conversation topic.

She does that often. Thinking for a beat too long when interacting with me. Dancing between someone who desperately wants to be my friend and also someone who seems unsure of how to do that—not that I have any more experience with it.

I’ve had two—Thoman and Doireann. Not exactly a world of experience.

Turning away from the blue waves I desperately wish to see properly, I answer softly, “I think so.”

Nothing has poisoned it for me yet. No negative emotions or memories. The ocean is a fresh slate to enjoy as I see fit. I only hope it stays that way.

“You think so?” Sar moves to sit in one of the armchairs. “I would think it’d be an easy question, one way or the other.”

I shrug. “Considering it’s the first time I’ve seen it...”

A look of realization dawns on Sar’s face, and I no longer feel the need to explain.

“Oh,” she says in a voice dripping with pity. “I’m sorry. I forgot with everything going on.”

“Don’t even worry about it.”

The silence following is painfully awkward.

Falland’s streets weren’t exactly an environment that fosters conversational skills, but I’m saved by voices coming down the staircase—Ardis and Torryn.

“Tell Lord Rhen he is welcome to visit her—” Torryn appraises me from across the room.

Ardis gives me a smile in greeting, patting Torryn on the back as he passes him to sit on the arm of Sar’s chair.

At his presence, Sar offers Ardis the smallest of smiles before crossing her legs, allowing for her knee to press against his thigh.

Ardis glances at her leg but says nothing.

“Joining us, Torryn? Or will you be conducting this meeting from the hall?” Sar asks, a teasing grin on her face.

Torryn begrudgingly sits on the couch, his face hard as he looks at me. “What is she doing here?”

My eyes flash to Sar.She had said Torryn called for me.

“You wanted to know how she was doing and make sure she knew the plan.” Sar says, raising her chin at Torryn’s glare.

“You knew what I meant. You were supposed to take care of it, not bring her here.”

“Perhaps you should clarify next ti—”

Moving away from the windows and into the corral of seats, I ask, “Is there a problem with me being here? I’d just like to know what the plan is.” When Torryn meets my eyes, his eyelids lower, peering at me beneath his long eyelashes. His lips purse as he chews his cheek, creating a dimple. “If you want me to leave, then tell me what I need to know, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

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