“I’ll be right back.”
I blinked, and the Lord was gone yet again. Stunned by how fast he moved, I rose on shaky legs. I didn’t let myself think about anything as I went into the bathing chamber to gather my ruined clothing. After toeing on my boots, I stepped into the bedchamber, waiting until the very last minute before I donned my cloak.
The Lord wasn’t gone that long; it was maybe a few more moments before I felt a stirring of air in the chamber. I turned, finding him standing in the doorway of the bedchamber. He held something black in his hands.
“Is your friend still here?” I asked.
The Lord nodded. “The horse tethered in the woods? Is it yours?”
I glanced at the lone window. “If it’s the one eating everything in sight, then yes.”
“She is.” There was a pause. “That is a fine horse.”
I nodded.
“I brought you this. It is a cloak— a clean one.”
“Oh, than— ” Remembering one of the bizarre customs surrounding the Hyhborn, I stopped myself from thanking him. Supposedly they felt it tainted their act or something. “That is kind of you.”
He said nothing as he came to me, taking my soiled clothing, dropping it on the bed. “This will need to be destroyed,” he said. “Hyhborn blood will not wash from the items.”
That was something else I hadn’t known.
“How far do you have to travel to return home?” he asked.
“Not that . . .” I trailed off as he draped the cloak over my shoulders. The backs of his hands grazed my chest as he drew the halves together. The material was heavier than what was worn this time of year, but it more than reached the floor, hiding my bare legs.
“How far?” he repeated, securing the clasps at my throat.
“Not a great distance.”
He eyed me. “Good.”
“And you?”
There was something hard about the Lord’s smile, and it was completely at odds with the gentleness of his touch. He brought his hand to my cheek. The tips of his fingers glided over my skin. “It’s safe for you to leave. You should do that and do so quickly.”
A shiver erupted along my spine. “What are you— ”
“You don’t want me to answer that.” He palmed my jaw, causing my breath to catch as he ran his thumb over my lower lip.
His gaze held mine for several more moments; then he dropped his hand and stepped to the side. I didn’t move, though, not for several moments, and it was hard to make myself do it. “Will you be okay?”
There was a faint softening to his features. “I will.”
“Okay.” I swallowed. “Goodbye then.”
The Lord said nothing.
I briefly closed my eyes, then forced myself to walk. I went for the door.
“Na’laa?”
I stopped as something . . . something like hope swelled inside me. Hope for what? I really couldn’t say as I looked over my shoulder at him.
The Lord stood with his back to me, shoulders a tense straight line. “Be careful.”
CHAPTER 7
Leaning over the neat row of fiery-pink dianthus, I curled my fingers around the base of a dandelion. Feeling a bit guilty, I tore the little sucker from the soil. With all their medicinal benefits, the weeds wouldn’t go wasted, but I still felt bad for tearing them out for purely cosmetic reasons.
It didn’t help that my mind conjured up woeful shrieks every time I yanked out a weed.
As I tossed the weed into the basket of its cohorts, my attention shifted to the purplish-blue spikes of catmint. At once, I saw him— heard his voice and felt him.
My Hyhborn lord.
Last night . . . it felt like a fever dream, but the grisly memories of seeing him impaled to that table were all too real, as was the shower. Touching him. The feel of him beneath my palms. The brush of his lips against my bruised skin.
Still, none of it felt real— I’d known I would see him again, but never in two lifetimes would I have expected what had happened. My reaction to him. My want. Need. Any of it.
A faint shudder rocked me as I reopened my eyes and looked up, past the stone walls of the manor, toward the city of Archwood. Dual streams of smoke still filled the air near the wharf.
I swallowed, skin chilling despite the warmth of the early-morning sun.
When I had woken after only a few hours, if that, of sleep, I’d found myself staring at the lunea dagger lying on the nightstand beside my bed. I’d snatched it from the cupboard as I left the blacksmith’s house. Taking it wasn’t something I’d consciously thought of doing. I’d just done it, guided by intuition.