She had washed her clothes and hung both sets of them on the edge of the bathtub. With the steam in the room, they wouldn’t dry overnight, so he used his magic to summon a breeze. Just enough to ensure she’d have something comfortable to wear when they got back in the saddle.
He grabbed a washcloth and cleaned up until any proof of their ride through the desert and their encounter with the desert lion had disappeared.
When he returned to the bedroom, Gandrett was sitting in the chair, blanket slipping off her shoulders, exposing that she was wearing only her underthings. She was fast asleep, face relaxed for once, not full of fear or dismay or of that hidden melancholy he had been observing those past days. He gently slid one arm across her back and one under her knees, and he carefully carried her over to the bed where he tucked her under the heavy blankets and spread her hair around her head so it could dry. Then Nehelon grabbed the blanket that the girl had been wrapped in and laid down with it on the floor at the foot of the bed.
Chapter Twelve
Gandrett woke to the dulled sound of music and the happy chattering of people in the streets below the window. With heavy limbs, she sat up in the middle of the soft bed—how had she gotten there?—before she leaned forward to scan the room for Nehelon. The bathing room was open with no sign he was inside.
Keeping the blankets wrapped around her, Gandrett climbed a little further toward the end of her bed, to find the view of the freshly-dressed Fae male sprawled on the floor, fast asleep, one hand on the sword beside his head. She froze so as to not wake him. It was like the glamour had slipped again in his sleep, more thoroughly this time, revealing to a full extent his stunning features.
He must have carried her into bed and picked the floor for himself. This creature who never held a kind word for her…
Spellbound, Gandrett studied him. The high cheekbones, the strength of his jaw, the curve of his lips, sensual, soft, his eyes framed with a fringe of thick, black lashes casting shadows on his cheeks in the morning sun. But what was more beautiful than any of his visible features was that peace. An expression she hadn’t even believed was possible on the usually so cold and stone-like face. So fragile, she almost reached out to brush his cheek with her fingertips. Almost.
Then, she noticed his hair had slid back to expose his pointed ears. Fae ears. And the urge subsided.
Slowly, carefully, Gandrett slid out of bed, grabbed the plain brown gown from the backrest of the chair where Nehelon must have hung it, and tiptoed into the bathing room to get dressed, to find her acolyte uniform almost dry on the rim of the bathtub where she had left it last night.
She considered putting it on but slipped into the simple, brown gown, preferring dryness over comfort at this point. The morning air would be chilly, and she didn’t want to risk getting sick.
Besides, it was the Fest of Blossoms today. She had heard what people expected of Children of Vala on that day. Some even pilgrimaged to the priory to receive blessings from the high priests and priestesses. Gandrett doubted Nehelon would agree if they were held up because of her. Besides, she wasn’t a priestess. A blessing from her was worth about as much as buying one of the lucky charms the traveling merchants had sold in Alencourt the day she had been taken.
To her surprise, the dress fit. More tightly than anything else she’d ever worn, but it was clean and warm enough. She was half-done when there was a knock on the door—not the bathing room one—followed by rustling and Nehelon’s voice barking for whoever it was to leave whatever it was at the door. An array of clattering dishes followed suit.
Gandrett chuckled at his tone. Not the cold, calculated one he used with her, but an authentically disgruntled one similar to what Surel sounded like when woken early.
When she entered the bedroom, fully dressed, hair yet to be braided, Nehelon was handling a tray of steaming tea and fresh breads. He looked up over a plate, eyes wide as he took her in.
Gandrett merely smoothed out her skirts and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”
Nehelon’s eyes were still grazing over her, not the way the men’s had at the tavern last night but with a look somewhere between disbelief and surprise.
“This is what I look like when I’m clean,” Gandrett explained and took the tray from his hands, watching his throat bob as she did.
He sat on the chair by the window and watched her set down the tray beside her on the bed.
“Compliments of the house,” he said, voice raw. “For the Child of Vala.”
Gandrett mustered a smile and nodded her thanks, then picked up a cup, filled it with a wonderful-smelling herbal infusion, and handed it to him.
Nehelon’s eyebrows rose. “A peace offer?” he asked with a grin similar to the mocking ones before she had found out his secret.
Gandrett, however, brushed her hair back over her shoulder and shook her head. “Nice of you to let me have the bed last night,” she merely said, and she saw it in his eyes, the facets of blue diamond sparkling, even as his face tightened a bit, that he realized it had been his peace offer. “Plus, it’s Fest of Blossoms today. We are supposed to share meals and enjoy ourselves.”
His grin turned into a tentative half-smile. “Even with the savage who bought you from the priory?”
There it was. The cold truth told from his sensual lips. Gandrett’s heart thundered in her chest, and by the way his face changed, she knew that he regretted having reminded her.
Gandrett wasn’t done. “How come no one has noticed what you are?” She asked, curious to find out how he had been navigating his life in human realms without getting caught.
He just shrugged. “The glamour works on most humans,” he explained and pointed at his face, which slowly dulled, taking away the radiance—not that anyone could ever miss how handsome he still was, but the full extent of his beauty had been hidden behind whatever spell he was using.
With swift fingers, he reached up and pulled back his hair, showing ears now round as any human’s.
Gandrett sucked in a breath.
“When it slipped that morning with you—” He studied her face, eyes curious, not cold, but as he leaned a tad closer, Gandrett moved away.
“I understand if you are afraid of me,” he said lowly, some emotion filling his eyes as he still measured her face. “This is not how I thought things would turn out.”
“How did you think they would turn out?” she asked into the silence that was spreading between them. “You could have just walked in through the front gate of the priory instead of provoking a sword fight. That would have been an idea.”
She swallowed, watching him take a sip of tea, darkness in his eyes brewing like a storm. “How would I have ever known if you were worth the money?” he plainly said, a grin decorating his lips. And even though he smiled and spoke and drank tea like a normal person, he had paid the Meister dearly for her temporary service. The bag had been heavy and probably filled with gold.
“And, am I?”
“That remains to be discovered,” he responded, his smile turning feral. “Let’s see how you do in your assignment.”
She tried not to be offended.
It hadn’t changed: Gandrett was afraid of him and for good reason. But she was even more afraid of not knowing what lay ahead of her. “When we arrive in Ackwood,” she cautiously asked, “what will I be expected to do?”