“G-Get off me.” I stumbled over the words, my heart thudding into a roar that filled my ears and vibrated along my tongue.
He smirked, satisfaction in his eyes, the storm calming, tempered by my show of weakness.
“I wouldn’t repeat what happened this morning with Fjor. My retribution won’t be so fun next time.” He gathered his clothes and strode from the room without a backward glance.
I fell to the floor of the washroom, my legs shaking too much to hold me up. It was as I lay there that I realised I hadn’t slept or eaten in far too long, and I forced myself to get up and walk into the dressing room. I blamed my cowardice on the lack of sustenance and sleep.
As I passed by the bench against the wall, I paused, the slight glint of metal catching my attention. My ring was sitting there, left by Vale. I quickly slipped it back on and changed into one of the bodysuits. I retrieved the oyntille from the washroom and then twisted my ring as I spoke Frey’s name. The floor shifted beneath me as I landed, and I collapsed as someone grabbed my ankle and jerked me to the ground, landing heavily across my torso. I stared up in shock as Bjern hovered over me, a knife in his hand.
“Ven?” He quickly backed off, and I sat up as Frey jolted from the bed beside us, her legs swinging to the floor.
The floor where Bjern had been sleeping.
“Uh…” I managed. “Yeah.”
Bjern grabbed the sheath beneath his pillow and slid the blade home, tossing it back to the blanket on the floor.
“Typical Tempest,” he muttered, not unkindly. “You’re too good for human things like walking down corridors and opening doors, huh?”
I grinned, but my face flushed. “Sorry.” I flicked my eyes to Frey, who was frowning at me.
“What is it—” she began, reading something in my expression.
I quickly held up a hand, cutting off her question before her power could force me to answer.
“Just … stuff,” I said. “It’s nothing important.”
“What is it?” she immediately reformed her question, folding her arms. She glanced to the mirror, propped up against the wall, ensuring that the whole world wasn’t watching our interaction before her eyes swung back to me.
“Vale orchestrated a bath.” I cringed, hiding my face as I swung to the wardrobe. “Do you have something for me to wear?”
“Ven…” Frey sighed. “What bath?”
“Do we really want to know?” Bjern asked, though I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or Frey.
“Of course.” Frey appeared beside me, hunting through the sparse, neatly folded collection of clothing. She handed me a black shirt and training pants. “Here, I stole these from the laundry room in the barracks. They’re a bit too small for me.” She turned back to Bjern. “The great masters are the biggest mystery in all of this. They aren’t to be trusted. They might start seducing her, or getting into her head, or manipulating her. We need to keep an eye on their interactions. To protect her.”
“That was the most Sinn thing you’ve ever said.” Bjern looked equal parts amused and exasperated. “She’s a person, you know. An adult one.”
“And you’re being a typical Sjel right now,” she shot back. “Ven can’t afford emotions right now. The second she lets her guard down around them, she’ll become their slave again, and we’ll be back at square one.”
I started to put the clothes on, but she stopped me, a hand on my wrist.
“And while I’m at it,” she continued, giving me a stern look. “You haven’t slept. You haven’t regenerated your magic. You look like shit. Something has to give, Ven. Go to sleep. We’ll bring food in soon.”
I blew out a breath, looking over at Bjern. “Does she wake up like this every morning?”
His nose scrunched up in an expression that was almost adorable—or as adorable as someone could look with two fearsome dark slashes running across their face.
“We decided to double up in the rooms,” he said defensively. “For protection.”
I bit down on my lip, containing my smile. “Okay,” I said as Frey started pushing me to the door. “I’m going to go and sleep now.”
“You have five hours,” she told me. “Then we eat. Then we have a few more rules to break.”
I returned to the level my bedroom was on and entered the room with a half-smile still on my face—one which dropped as soon as I saw the four figures splayed out on my bed, their clothing discarded over various furnishings around the room.
“You have to be kidding me,” I muttered, turning back for the door.
The door, which was blocked by Vale.
Vale, who had already wrapped his twine around the handle again, stopping any means I had of exiting the room. He took the two strides needed to reach me, his large hands dropping to my shoulders. He was touching me the way you would if you were about to push someone to their knees, except he was holding me up, his fingers digging into my flesh. I realised why, a second later, when he spoke, his words burning into the mark on my cheek.
“Sleep.”
Seventeen
Playtime
I woke to the sound of porcelain shattering to the stone floor. I jolted up, my legs twisted in furs, my eyes bleary. Frey and Bjern stood in the doorway to the room, a broken teacup on the ground, a tray balanced in Bjern’s hands. Sig was behind them, his head peering into the room from over Bjern’s shoulder. I assumed Herra was there, too, but I couldn’t see her behind Sig.
I started to crawl out of the bed, but my hand landed against something hard, and I slowly looked down to the stomach tensed beneath my fingers. The bare stomach. The bare stomach belonging to the very large torso of a very awake Helki.
I quickly scrambled back, but hit another body, eliciting a masculine chuckle. All five of the masters were still in my bed, but the twine was gone from the door. Probably to orchestrate this very moment. Vale was the only one of them still fully clothed, his boots perched by the edge of the bed, his hood pulled up to hide his face. They were all sitting up, their backs leaning against the cushioned sides of the sunken bed. Fjor, Vidrol, and Helki only wore pants, while Andel had a linen shirt on as well.
“I’m awake now,” I groused, picking my way around Vidrol and Helki. “You can go back to whatever it is you do when you’re not trying to guard me against each other.”
I slipped out of the bed and quickly stepped into the clothes Frey had lent me, the pants were actually shorts, the material thin and stretchy, ending at my thighs. The shirt was tight and made of the same material, with the King’s emblem sewn across the breast in gold thread.
“You could have asked for training clothes,” Vidrol offered helpfully, indicating they had ignored my banishing of them.
“I prefer clothes that don’t try to crush me to death,” I shot back, snatching up the oyntille and holding my hand out to Bjern. “Knife,” I muttered.
He passed the tray to Sig, walking over to me and withdrawing the same blade he had threatened me with in the morning. He passed it over, hilt first.
“Can you do it?” I asked, plucking my neckline. There was no skin for the oyntille to attach to.