My lips twitched at that. “I’m sure that went over well.”
“As well as an avalanche.”
We rounded the next floor, the knowledge that I was getting closer to my bed keeping me going as I mulled over what Hawke had done. “He is…quite observant, isn’t he? And intuitive.”
“Yes.” Vikter sighed, obviously thinking that wasn’t a good thing. “Yes, he is.”
Three dozen torches blazed beyond the Rise, their flames a beacon of light in the vast darkness, a promise of safety to the slumbering city.
I cast a longing look toward the bed, letting out a tired sigh as I twisted the ends of my braid. Nightmares from a different night had driven me from sleep, leaving my skin slick with a cold sweat and my heart thrumming like a rabbit caught in a snare.
Luckily, I hadn’t woken Tawny with my screams. She’d been up late the past two nights. The first night, she’d spent a good part of the evening doing everything possible to make sure the welts healed, and last night, she’d been summoned by the Mistresses to assist with preparations for the Rite.
Tawny had used a concoction the Healers swore by and which the guards frequently used for their numerous injuries, rubbing the mixture of pine and sage-scented arnica and honey onto the inflamed skin of my back. It was the same stuff the Healer had used the night of the abduction. The ointment had cooled my skin and eased the ache almost immediately. Still, we knew from previous experience that it had to be applied nearly every other hour to achieve the desired effect.
And it had worked. By yesterday evening, there was only a twinge of discomfort, even though the skin was still pinker than normal.
I hadn’t been making light of what had occurred when I told Vikter and then Tawny that it could’ve been worse. The welts would most likely be gone by the morning, and there’d be little if any pain. I was lucky I always healed quickly, and even luckier that Teerman hadn’t been drinking Red Ruin the afternoon of my summons.
The Duke had known my mother. How? As far as I knew, she’d never been to Masadonia, so that had to mean that the Duke had met her in the capital. It was rare for the Ascended to travel, especially such a great distance, but they’d obviously met.
There had been such a strange look on Teerman’s face when he spoke of her. Nostalgia mixed with…what? Anger, perhaps? Disappointment. Had whatever interactions he’d had with her caused the way he behaved toward me?
Or was I just looking for a reason for his treatment, as if there had to be something to explain his cruelty?
There wasn’t a lot that I knew about life, but I knew that, sometimes, there was no reason. A person, whether Ascended or not, was who they were with no explanation.
Sighing, I shifted my weight from foot to foot. I’d been holed up in my room the last two days, mainly because rest ensured that the ointment worked as fast as possible, and also because I was avoiding, well…everyone.
But especially Hawke.
I hadn’t seen him since I’d stepped into the Duke’s private office, and knowing that he’d sensed that something was wrong left me with a gurgling feeling of anxiety and embarrassment, even though what Teerman had done wasn’t my fault. I just didn’t want Hawke to figure out that something was wrong, and he was observant enough to do so.
Granted, staying in my room for two days would probably also send up a red flag, but at least he hadn’t borne witness to how carefully I had to move while my back healed.
I didn’t want Hawke to see me as weak, even though as the Maiden, he would expect exactly that.
And maybe it had to do with the weird mix of relief and disappointment I felt every time he showed no recognition that he’d met me at the Pearl.
Dragging my gaze from the bed, I returned to watching the torches beyond the Rise. The fires were calm tonight, as they had been for several nights, but when the flames danced like mad spirits, driven by the winds of twilight? It meant the mist would not be far behind. And sweeping, terrible death followed the thick, white fog.
Absently, my hand slipped through the thin folds of the dressing gown to the bone handle of the dagger strapped to my thigh. My fingers curled around the cool hilt, reminding me that I would be ready if and when the Rise fell.
Just as I would be ready if the Dark One tried to come for me again.
My hand drifted from the handle to a few inches above my knee, brushing over the patch of uneven skin on my inner thigh. Hawke had come so incredibly close to touching the scar. What would he have done if he had? Would he have jerked his hand away? Or pretended as if he hadn’t felt anything?
I pulled my hand away. I wasn’t going to think about that. I curled my fingers into a fist as I cut off those thoughts. There was no reason to go down that road. Nothing good would come from doing so. It didn’t matter if he recognized me or not if I was just one of many girls he’d kissed in dimly lit rooms. It also didn’t matter if he had gone back to the Red Pearl like he’d promised—
I shook my head as if I could scatter my thoughts, but it didn’t work. One thing I’d discovered over the last two days of near isolation was that I could continue telling myself it didn’t matter, over and over, but it did.
Hawke had been my first kiss, even if he didn’t know that.
Silvery moonlight seeped through the chamber as I crept silently toward the west windows. Placing my fingers on the cool glass, I counted the torches. Twelve on the Rise. Twenty-four below. All aflame.
Good.
That was good.
I pressed my forehead to the thin glass that did very little to keep the chill from finding its way into the castle. In the west, where Carsodonia was nestled between the Stroud Sea and the Willow Plains, there was no need for glass windows. Summer and spring were eternal there, where autumn and winter forever reigned here. It was one of the things I looked forward to when I returned to the capital. The warmth. The sunshine. The scent of salt and sea, and all the glittering bays and coves.
Tawny, who had never seen the beaches, would absolutely love them. A tired grin tugged at my lips. When she’d been summoned by one of the Mistresses, Tawny had sent me a look that said she might’ve been happier scrubbing the bathing chambers than spending the evening attempting to please the unappeasable.
I often felt the same when it was time to meet with the Priestess. I’d rather spend the evening plucking my own body hair from very sensitive areas than spend hours with that dragon of a woman.
Perhaps I needed to be better at hiding how I felt when it came to her and the other Priestesses.
I still couldn’t believe she’d gone to the Duke, all because I didn’t spend half of my day listening to her and the others complain about everyone else.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I wished for what felt like the hundredth time that my brother was still in Masadonia. Ian had nightmares too, and if he were still here right now, he’d distract me with silly, made-up tales.
Did he still have nightmares after his Ascension? If not, then wasn’t that something else to look forward to?
My gaze traveled along the Rise, catching sight of a guard patrolling along the top of the wall.
I’d rather be out there than in here.
The Ascended would be shocked to hear such a thing, as would most others. To even think it—that I, the Maiden, the Chosen, who would go to the gods, would want to exchange places with a commoner, a guard, would be an affront to not only the Ascended but also to the gods themselves. All over the kingdom, people would do anything to be in the presence of the gods. I was…