14. Rainer

14

RAINER

I ce-cold fear spread through Rainer's chest, ripping him from a heavy sleep. He sat up in bed, his stomach tied in knots.

For no reason he understood, he raced down the hall to Cecilia's room. There were no guards in the hallway. Vincent's hunters seemed to only be vigilant when the king was watching. Often, they left their posts in favor of playing cards in the stables or huddling in dark corners with whores.

Rainer didn't bother knocking; he threw the bedroom door open, somehow knowing he wouldn't find her inside. The sheets on her bed were a swirled mess, but there was no sign of her.

"For fuck's sake," he sighed.

The king's fiancée was going to be the death of Rainer.

He took off down the hall, checking unlocked closets and rooms. The longer he searched, the more fear crept up on him.

Rainer breathed deep, trying to summon an idea of anywhere else to look. He took off in the opposite direction. He finally found her in a dark hallway in a nearly abandoned wing of the castle. If Rainer remembered correctly, this was the wing that belonged to the former king and queen of Argaria. Xander had explained that Vincent hadn't wanted to use the former king's quarters because he was superstitious about sleeping in a room where a king had been killed.

Cecilia stood, staring down a long, dark hall at nothing in particular.

"Lady Reznik, you scared me to death. What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.

She didn't move—didn't even seem to hear him.

Rainer looked at her more closely. She wore only a red silk nightgown. Her feet were bare, and goosebumps covered her arms. It was incredibly inappropriate for him to see her in such a state of undress, but she didn't even seem to notice him.

Cecilia continued to stare. Rainer stepped up beside her, finally seeing her tear-stained face.

"Please," she whispered.

"Lady Reznik?"

She still didn't acknowledge him. He reached out to touch her arm. She flinched and drew away. She gasped and looked around wildly, backing away from him.

"No, please," she begged.

"Cecilia, it's just me—Guardian McKay," he said, trying to take her arm again.

She struggled against his grip and took a swing at him. He barely ducked in time to avoid getting punched in the face. Her eyes were blank—not a hint of recognition on her face.

She's sleepwalking . She'd told Rainer that was why she wore an Unsummoner bracelet—so that she wouldn't hurt anyone when she was lost in a nightmare. But he hadn't thought to ask how to help her wake up. He didn't even know if that was the right thing to do.

"Don't touch me! Please, please don't!" She kicked and scratched at him and started screaming. He tried to restrain her so she wouldn't hurt him or herself, but she flailed wildly.

" Cece , it's Rainer. It's okay. I've got you," he said.

She stopped struggling at once, as if the name broke the spell she was under. Her eyes cleared and she looked up at him. "Rain?"

His heart clenched. She looked so helpless and truly terrified .

"I'm going to let you go now, okay? I know you don't like to be touched, but I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself." He pressed a hand to her forehead. "Are you feverish?"

She looked around, trying to get her bearings. "No," she mumbled. "I just sleepwalk sometimes since?—"

Rainer felt like an ass for assuming the worst. Vincent had mentioned it in passing that it was the reason she wore an Unsummoner bracelet. If she used her magic against someone while she was sleepwalking, she could easily kill them, and the king needed to protect both her and his people.

Rainer started to release Cecilia, but she clung to him. Her body shook violently. To his horror, she buried her face in his chest and started sobbing. He stood helplessly as she cried, not knowing if it was better or worse to hug her. She didn't like to be touched, but she was so distraught that not holding her felt cruel.

"Can I hug you?" he whispered.

"Yes," she mumbled.

He wrapped her in his arms, and she leaned heavily against him.

"All is well now," he whispered. "It was just a bad dream."

She just cried harder. Rainer cringed. He was so bad at this. Her tears filled him with intense panic.

"We should get you back to your room," he soothed. "You're shivering."

He started to pull away so he could give her his robe, but she clung to him desperately.

"Please, just a little bit longer," she whispered.

Rainer knew he shouldn't coddle her. Vincent had warned him not to, but it would have been cruel to lead her back to her room and leave her alone.

So, he held her. He tried to ignore the profound calm that came over him as Cecilia relaxed against his body. He tried not to notice how holding her was as much a comfort to him as it was to her—how her body seemed to fit with his, her head tucked perfectly against his chest. Her hands slid up the hem of his shirt, her cool fingers moving idly on his waist as she settled. It wasn't appropriate, but he let her do it because it felt nice, and it seemed to calm her more than anything else had.

Cecilia's sobbing quieted to sniffles, and she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. You didn't know what you were doing. Let's get you back to your room."

He pulled off his robe and wrapped it around her. The hem dragged on the floor, but she pulled it tight around her.

"Why are you always so cold?" Rainer asked.

"Olney is much milder. I'm not used to winters this harsh," she said.

"Then why do you wear so many lighter dresses to court events?" Rainer asked.

"Because the king likes them, and the king gets what he wants…one way or another." The bitterness in her tone made Rainer uncomfortable. "When I'm alone in my room I usually wear a sweater, but I must have taken it off in my sleep."

Though Rainer could understand the importance of appearances, especially after the recent attack, he wondered why Vincent wasn't more concerned with her comfort. Rainer would be. Every time he took Eloise to walk in the gardens, he made certain she had a warm enough cloak and always paid close attention to be certain she wasn't getting too cold. It seemed that Cecilia resented putting appearance above comfort, but Rainer supposed that was the price of being queen.

When they got back to her room, Cecilia dug an oversized sweater out of her tangled sheets and pulled it over the nightgown. It was clearly not her size. The hem hit her mid-thigh. He wanted to ask whose it was. He'd never seen Vincent in anything but fine clothing and armor. But it was none of his business whom it belonged to.

She handed his robe back to him. He put it on and caught a hint of her lemon-lavender scent on the fabric. He didn't understand how she smelled so good all the time, or the way the smell of her drew up all the blank spaces in his memory.

"I'm okay now. I probably won't do it again," she said as she pulled the blankets around her and laid back in the bed. She didn't sound certain at all.

She grabbed a green ribbon from the nightstand, but instead of using it to tie up her hair, she tied it around her wrist, her lips moving silently, as if in prayer. Perhaps it was some sort of superstition that witches had to banish bad dreams.

"Why the ribbon?" he asked.

Cecilia met his gaze. "Sometimes you just want to know you're not alone when heading into battle."

She said it so casually, as if he should know exactly what she meant. And some twinge in his chest made him feel for a moment like he might. But the feeling was fleeting.

Cecilia shifted, and for the first time Rainer noticed a stack of pillows next to her, as if mimicking another body. For some reason, seeing her lying in the bed curled against a pile of pillows made him feel incredibly sad.

"Lady Reznik?"

" Cece ."

"Cece, what happened to you? Can you just tell me, please?" he asked.

Her eyes met his. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her brow furrowed and she sighed. "I wish I could."

Rainer tried to quell the frustration that surged. All he wanted was for one person to help him remember. The healers knew best, but they didn't know what it was like to have lost all the context in his life and be surrounded by people who could fill in the gaps.

"Do you dream about losing the man you love?" Rainer asked.

She shook her head. An uneasy understanding settled into him.

"You dream about what happened to you—during the rebellion." He couldn't bring himself to say the words—to think of her being hurt that way. "You don't feel safe still?"

She nodded, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "What a pair we make. You can't remember and I can't forget."

There was forced humor in her voice, but he saw a glimpse of the grief beneath. So often their goals seemed at odds, but now he saw that they were both just trying to heal.

"How should someone approach you if you sleepwalk like that again?" Rainer asked.

She looked like she was about to cry again. "I don't know. It used to work for someone to just guide me back to bed and then hold me there, but obviously, you don't want to do that."

Rainer was a little startled to find that was actually his exact impulse. The few moments he'd held her in the hall were the best he'd felt since waking up after his accident. It was best not to think too hard about that or how quickly he had slipped into calling her Cecilia not just aloud, but also in his mind.

"I know you said that you won't do it again, but why don't I just sleep in this chair in front of the door?" he suggested.

She sat up. "You'd do that?" Her eyes filled with tears again.

"Oh, please don't cry," he whispered. "I don't know what to do when you cry. It makes me feel panicked."

She laughed through her tears. "Sorry. I've just felt very—" She didn't finish, but somehow Rainer knew she was going to say "lonely."

Maybe that was why she spent so much time driving him crazy. She was isolated and eager for any interaction. He supposed being the future queen was a lonely experience. Vincent was busy all the time and Rainer had seen the way the ladies of the court treated her like an outsider—though she was one, it was unkind of them to make it so clear on a daily basis.

He didn't understand how Cecilia seemed to surprise him a little bit every day. Each time he thought he had her figured out, he learned something else that startled him.

"It would be very nice if you stayed, but I don't want to get you in trouble. You need your sleep, too," she said.

"I don't mind, and I don't sleep well anyway. I'll go back to my room before dawn." He moved a plush chair in front of her bedroom door and slunk into it to begin his vigil.

By his eighth loop around the winter market in downtown Ardenis, Rainer had memorized the four most convenient exit routes that had the quickest path back to the castle, as well as six less ideal options if things were especially dire.

With fewer people milling about and several of the stalls closed, it was easier to keep track of everyone. So far, the only excitement Rainer had encountered involved one runaway baby goat named Luther, who took to stealing apples from a neighboring farm stall.

Rainer reached the end of the row of stalls and nearly bumped into a priestess of the Temple of Aurelia, who was carrying an extraordinarily large box of sweet buns. She met his eye and winked. "A treat for the women in our outreach program."

Something about the explanation felt forced. Rainer didn't know what program she was talking about, but he'd confirm it with Vincent later.

Bells rang out in the market. Three chimes. Three o'clock.

Rainer had dropped Cecilia at Threaded Dressmaker's Shop two hours ago. What women did in a dress shop that took so much time was beyond him, but the seamstress, Mariah, had shooed him away. She pointed out the female hunters stationed at the entrance and claimed that a big, brooding guardian would scare off her clients.

He'd tried to stand down the street, but the seamstress's hunters ran him off, so he was forced to do laps of the market, passing by the shop's windows every fifteen minutes or so to ensure nothing was going wrong.

Ardenis was particularly agitated. When Rainer had escorted Cecilia down from her room that morning, Grant was waiting for them. A rebellious town crier had shown up at the market at first light, spreading rumors that Vincent wasn't the rightful king and stirring the people into a frenzy. People had gathered to protest for hours outside the castle walls, their number swelling in the morning light. Rainer had no doubt it was the work of the rebels that still hid somewhere in town .

He'd had to take Cecilia the long way around the back of the castle to avoid trouble. It made him uneasy that he was the only one guarding her. Maybe it was some kind of test from the king, but Rainer couldn't help the fear that crept in when he thought about her sobbing in his arms.

She'd been uncommonly quiet and disturbingly agreeable on the walk. He was fairly certain that she was embarrassed by her emotional scene the night before. He'd just pretended like it never happened. Now, as he walked through the market, trying to focus on the goods in the booths, he couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd clung to him—the way he'd liked feeling like a safe place for her to hide.

A stiff wind blew a scarf loose from the booth beside him. Rainer grabbed it and carried it back to the woman manning the tent.

"Thank you. These winds are brutal today," the woman said, her gaze settling on the emblem on his sweater. "Ah, you're an Olney guardian. We don't get many of those around here. Are you bound to a witch?"

Shame unspooled in Rainer's gut. He fought the urge to defend himself to this woman, but there was nothing to say. He could not even summon the face of the witch he'd failed.

"No," he said. "Not all guardians are bound to witches. Some just protect royalty."

The woman nodded earnestly, but Rainer could not bear to hold her gaze.

"You don't seem the type to be shopping at my booth," the woman said. She nodded to a stall at the end of the row with daggers and light leather armor. "Thought you'd be down there shopping at Warsword's Way with all the other warriors."

Rainer pulled off a glove and ran a hand over a teal sweater hanging from the rack in front of him. He could picture Cecilia in something like that. She was always shivering, and while Rainer hoped that the seamstress would make her some dresses more appropriate for the northern chill, he doubted she would go against the king's wishes. She pushed boundaries, certainly, but after hearing Vincent and Cecilia the other day, she must know not to continue to push him.

Maybe if Rainer bought her the sweater, it would help him shake the tightness in his chest that hadn't relented since he found her sleepwalking.

"That's a lovely choice," the woman manning the stall said. "Is it for a lady friend?"

Rainer hesitated, then nodded. He knew the woman was asking if it was a courting gift, but Cecilia was a lady, and a friend of sorts.

"You have excellent taste. Fine local wool, very warm for a lady who's always chilled. I also have it in gray and red if that would complement her better," the woman said.

Rainer shook his head. "I think this will do. She has blue eyes."

The woman smiled at him as if she saw something he didn't. "That's a perfect color. She'll love it." She wrapped the sweater in paper and string and finished it off with a pale pink rose and a wink. "The pale pink is for courting."

Rainer's cheeks warmed as he handed her the payment and slipped the package under his arm.

He turned and crossed the square. Snow turned muddy underfoot, melting between the cobblestones. People rushed by with little regard for their surroundings, as if they hadn't all been under attack just weeks before. While it was good that they had short memories—or were at least resilient from years of living on the edge of war—it unnerved him how something that had broken his mind left no mark on everyone else's.

He turned down the seamstress's street yet again. Cecilia was waiting for him. The seamstress's hunters looked relieved to be rid of him.

Rainer almost scolded Cecilia for not waiting inside, but he stopped himself when he saw tears on her cheeks. Her eyes were closed, but her chin was tipped up toward the sky like the sun's rays might be enough to heal her.

Her quiet grief stole the air from his lungs. He stayed where he was, a few doors down, waiting for her to compose herself. Finally, she wiped her cheeks and blinked her eyes open before turning toward him.

"You're back," she said, forcing a smile.

For a moment he considered if it was better to ask her to talk about it or let it go. She hooked her hand through his arm and started to walk.

"How was it?" Rainer asked.

"As fun as getting poked and prodded for hours for a bunch of dresses you hate can be," she grunted.

"Why would you get dresses you hate?" Rainer asked.

"I didn't design them. They are to Vincent's taste, and we apparently disagree on everything when it comes to fashion," she grumbled.

"Well, if you behave yourself, perhaps you'll get a surprise that you like better than those stuffy dresses," Rainer said.

She paused and turned to look at him, noticing the package in his hands. Her face lit up, her eyes shining. "Rainer, did you buy me a present?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't make a big deal about it. I was hoping it would be good motivation for you to head back to the castle without arguing."

She grinned broadly. "You're so handsome when you blush. I see it so rarely."

"Should I take it back?" Rainer asked, arching an eyebrow.

She slumped and started toward the castle. "Fine, be a fun-sucker. I was just excited about my present."

Rainer sighed, following her. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"I'll stop calling you that when you stop acting like such a fun-sucker."

He looked at the booth to their left, which advertised a variety of love potions and hexes.

"See something you need?" Cecilia teased. "Perhaps a spell for Lady Spellman."

"Hardly. "

Cecilia pursed her lips. "I suppose you're right. She's not one to need convincing when it comes to you."

Rainer didn't like the way she spoke about Eloise, that hint of knowing in her voice—as if Cecilia knew more than he did about the woman he was courting.

Cecilia paused in front of the booth of love spells. "It's utter nonsense anyway. No one has the power to make someone love them. All magic requires an exchange, and what could possibly purchase something as valuable as love? It's a shame so many people waste their money, thinking that love spells are real."

"If I didn't know better, I might think you were trying to stall returning to the castle," Rainer said.

She grinned. "I promise that I only need one more stop."

True to her word, she only made him stop once so that she could buy a lemon cake, which she ate half of before looking at it wistfully and offering him the rest.

"You don't want it?" Rainer asked. "I thought they were your favorite."

She stared at him. "How did you know that?"

Rainer frowned. How did he know that? He couldn't remember her saying so. He must have heard it in passing. He shrugged, and she looked so disappointed that he felt guilty.

She held up her wrist, the one with the Unsummoner band. "When a witch is cut off from their magic, it ruins their appetite, and makes them tired. Being without magic makes us sick—like losing something vital."

Rainer frowned as he followed her. Why did she have to wear it all the time if it made her unwell? Couldn't she take it off during the day? He'd have to discuss it with Vincent during his daily briefing on Cecilia's well-being. Vincent had asked him to continue acting as her personal guard. He claimed none of the other hunters wanted to risk being maimed, but Rainer suspected it was a test of his loyalty—one Rainer was determined to pass. He'd failed Cecilia once by not getting to her until she'd been hurt. He wouldn't do it again.

"Did we know each other in Olney?" Rainer asked. If he'd known her before coming here, it would make sense that he'd have some remnant of her likes and dislikes in some far corner of his memory.

Cecilia paused, clenched her jaw, and blew out a breath.

"You can't say, but I'm assuming we did," Rainer said. He wanted to ask where her guardian was. She was a witch from Olney, so she must have had a guardian. But he couldn't stand to ask another question and be met with her frustrated silence.

Once they were back in the safety of the castle, Rainer relaxed. He saw Cecilia to her room, where she said she'd open her present before taking a nap.

She stepped behind the changing screen. Rainer tried to look away—a better man would have—but the screen was backlit by the fireplace and as she took off her dress, the shadow of her figure showed through. Rainer's mouth went dry. His heart raced as she bent over to pull up her pants. It was a luxury to watch Cecilia without her teasing. She was petite, but the curve of her ass was slightly disproportionate to the smaller swell of her breasts, and the effect was mesmerizing. Lust bubbled up in his stomach. He couldn't look away.

Cecilia stepped out from behind the screen. She walked to the looking glass on the far side of the room and pulled her hair free from the neck of the sweater. She didn't just look good in it; she looked incredible, effortless, and sexy, especially with her hair loose down her back. For some reason, seeing her in casual attire undid him more than any of the lovely dresses she wore. The teal made her eyes stand out a vibrant blue, and when she smiled at him he felt his heart squeezing. It slunk off her shoulder, revealing creamy skin and three freckles. Rainer had the irrational urge to kiss that perfect constellation.

The sweater was an enormous mistake—bachelors did not buy gifts for unavailable women. It sent the wrong message. Vincent would be upset if he found out.

"This has to stay between us," Rainer said, glancing at her reflection in the glass .

She smirked. "Of course. It will stay between us. Unless you wish to remove it."

He crossed his arms. "I thought we'd moved on from that tactic of yours."

"It's a perfect fit, and so soft." She smiled and turned to face him. "Thank you, Rainer. It's beautiful."

He shrugged, but he could see in the mirror that he was blushing again. "It looks very nice on you. I'm sure Vincent will like it."

She froze. The reminder of the king was enough to throw cold water on both of them.

"Well," Rainer said abruptly. "I'll leave you to your rest, but I'll be back in an hour to wake you for lunch."

Cecilia nodded, frowning as he turned to leave.

He made his way down the hallway, scrubbing a hand over his face to focus himself. He was happy to have training with Michael to distract him from his idiotic behavior. The kid was getting better, but, more than that, he was eager to learn, attentive, and took mistakes in stride.

The hour flew by. Rainer didn't even realize it until he heard clapping from the corner of the room.

He turned and saw Cecilia grinning. She looked flushed and lovely in the teal sweater, her hair braided over one shoulder.

"Bravo, excellent work, young man. We'll make a warrior out of you yet," she said.

"My lady," Michael said, bowing.

"My lord," Cecilia said, dropping into a curtsey.

Michael's cheeks went bright red, and he looked down at the ground. Rainer knew how he felt.

"Are you Guardian McKay's new trainee?" Cecilia asked.

Michael nodded, finally meeting her eye, his ears glowing red at the tips.

"You could not have a better teacher. How fortunate that he's made time for you," Cecilia said, her eyes catching Rainer's.

"I thought I told you I would get you when I was finished," Rainer said dumbly .

"I tired of waiting and thought I'd save you the steps. I figured you would be here, though I admit the new recruit was a surprise."

"It's okay, Guardian McKay. My ma will be worried if I'm not back to the kitchens soon. Thank you for my lesson," Michael said, placing his wooden practice sword on the rack with a reverence typically reserved for a priceless relic.

"Keep practicing your footwork and I'll see you tomorrow," Rainer called as the boy darted to the door and ducked out of sight.

"If you're not careful I'll begin to think you've gone soft," Cecilia taunted.

Rainer rolled his eyes. "He's just a bored kid and it's best to keep him off the street now with so much unrest in the city. I've not gone soft."

Her eyebrow arched. "So, you're hard, then?"

"You seem in better spirits after your nap," Rainer said.

She grinned. "Oh, nonsense. The nap had nothing to do with it. I just thrive in the company of men who are entirely unmoved by my charm."

Rainer shook his head, wishing those words were true.