Chapter Three

CHAPTER

THREE

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I HARDLY SLEPT LAST NIGHT, WHICH ISN'T UNUSUAL, BUT fatigue weighs on my tired bones and strained muscles. The heels of my palms dig into my eyes before I turn over and groan into my pillow. My face stays buried for a few seconds to avoid the light streaming through my windows.

I'm meeting with the Commander of Vareveth tonight. Cayden Veles wants me, and I have no idea why. I couldn't properly make out his features last night, so the only picture I have in my mind is a scarred, shadowy face.

I flop onto my back and kick the blankets off, tucking my feet into my slippers before they can touch the cold wooden floor. I tug the sleeves of my wool sweater to my elbows to run cold water over my face. Finnian always tells me I look intimidating until I smile, and then my entire face brightens. My tired eyes stare back at me in the mirror, and I pinch my narrow cheeks to bring some color into them, missing the slight glow I gain in the summer months while gardening.

We didn't always have running water here. Most places on the continent do, but it's a rarity for a makeshift kingdom like Aestilian. The tavern we went to last night doesn't have running water, nor do most of the villages in the Sweven Forest. You can always tell by the smell of the crowds.

I don't remember my chambers in Imirath, so I take pride in my room. It's the only corner of the world I have to myself, and I keep fresh flowers on my dresser when they're in season and stack books along the walls. The plush chair beside my hearth is well loved from all the nights I've spent reading till the sun came up, letting the words provide an escape route from my mind.

I enter the dining room, which is connected to the simple kitchen and living room, and realize our housekeeper must have been here because there's a steaming cup of coffee with two pieces of toast smothered in butter and raspberry jam waiting for me. Bless Galakin for providing Erebos with their caffeinated imports. Sunlight pours through the windows, warming the wood beneath my feet and illuminating the various weapons, blankets, and books strewn about the worn, mismatched furniture.

When I first came to Aestilian, before it was even Aestilian, I lived here with Ailliard and the four guards who helped me escape Imirath—Nessa, Esmeralla, Lycus, and Zander. They've all taken up quarters in the guardhouse, but Finnian and I chose to stay here.

I wish I could say I feel content, but I don't. The tide hasn't pulled back the wave of uneasiness that washed over me last night. I'm submerged, drowning in it. My hand rubs the back of my neck, and I lean my head against the chair. The urge to make a move is eating me alive.

A deep groan resembling a mother bear talking to her cubs sounds down the hall, pulling me from my thoughts. I laugh into my cup as a sleep-stricken Finnian with curls jutting in all directions trudges into the room. I remove my feet from the chair across from me before he flings himself into it.

"Go back into hibernation."

"I didn't want you to talk to Ailliard without me," he mutters, digging a fork into his omelet.

"I don't plan on talking to him today."

He pins me with sleepy eyes. "Do you really think this is something you should keep from him?"

"I'm not." I raise my palms in the air. "I just want to soak it in before I tell him. It doesn't feel real." My breakfast threatens to make a second appearance as the lies twist my stomach. I hate lying to him. I hardly ever do, not even little white lies.

As for Ailliard, he'll be on higher alert if I tell him Vareveth is looking for me. He'll send more soldiers to the border, making sneaking around harder, and I need to get to that meeting tonight. I'll leave slightly past midday to arrive at the clearing before Cayden Veles. It feels strange to name the shadowed face in my mind. He seemed more like a figment of darkness than an actual man.

I rest my hands on my lower abdomen and suck in a sharp breath, drawing Finnian's attention. "Menstrual cramps?"

"Mm-hmm." I press my lips together and give my best pained expression. He knows of the horrible pain that accompanies my monthly despite the tonic I take. Sometimes it's so bad I can't walk on the first day without limping.

His eyes fill with concern. "Do you need my help getting upstairs?" I make a mental note to buy him something from a bakery when all of this is over, or maybe new arrows.

"I'll be okay." I manage a small smile while channeling my inner emotional turmoil to present itself as physical pain. "I think I'm going to stay in my room for the rest of the day. Do you have plans?"

He shakes his head. "I was going to head down to the tavern later, but I can stay if you want me here."

"No!" I shoot out too quickly. "I've been dealing with this for years. Have fun tonight. Don't worry about me. I'm just going to sleep and read," I add to cover up my outburst.

"All right." He regards me with suspicious eyes. "Just tell me if you need anything."

"I will."

"No, you won't." His lips pinch in the corners. I can't help it; I don't want to be a burden.

"Okay, fine. But I promise I'll be perfectly content to sit in my chair by the fire," I say, staying at the table until he finishes his breakfast.