Chapter Thirty-Seven
Addie refused to leave Gandrett’s side as she dismissed the girl with heartfelt words of thanks. As did Armand.
He had taken Joshua to his chambers and sent one of his loyal guards, both of which had not asked any questions despite the horrified looks on their faces when they had assessed the condition Joshua and Gandrett were in, to get reinforcements—only from his inner circle, he had demanded, and Deelah.
While Gandrett had washed and changed into her sleeping gown and wrapped a robe around her shivering body, Armand had overseen Joshua’s treatment. Only now that Joshua was asleep, he had come through the secret passageway together with Deelah, and the woman was now cleaning the wounds on Gandrett’s hands. No burn marks there, Gandrett had noticed. Just the deep cut from Nehelon’s dagger.
Deelah didn’t ask questions either but patiently worked on Gandrett’s hands while Armand paced the room in an elliptic path.
“I can do this myself,” Gandrett commented between two sips of water she drank from a glass Addie was holding to her lips.
“It seems you can do more than that,” Armand noted from his position by the wall.
Gandrett knew by the look on his face that he knew. She could tell by the deep furrow between his brows that he was debating what to do with her—or Joshua. But he didn’t speak until Deelah was done with her hands and left with a bucket full of bloodied water.
“Use this for your face.” She placed a small bottle on the table before she headed out the door, a weary smile on her lips.
“She’s not going to say a word to anyone,” Armand claimed as soon as the door closed behind Deelah.
Gandrett loosed a breath, as did Addie and Armand. The three of them stared at each other for a long moment, Gandrett close to the point of falling asleep sitting up. If it weren’t for the fear that she would be kicked into the forests of Ulfray before she ever had a chance of finishing her mission and seeing her parents again. Then, if she did have magic, wouldn’t it be better to stay as far away from them as she could.
Eventually, Armand stopped looking at her as if she was a hybrid between a branding iron and a porcelain doll and sauntered over to sit next to her on the crimson sofa. All the while Addie still stood, shifting as if she was about to make an excuse to leave.
“You are staying here,” he said with a voice that was more commander than a young lord.
Addie, to her credit, didn’t shy away from his tone but simply said, “Lady Linniue will be wondering where I am.”
The light of recognition flashed in Armand’s eyes. “So that’s where I have seen you before.”
Addie cringed. “The Lady doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” she murmured, her electric blue eyes wandering to the secret passage between Armand’s and Gandrett’s chambers.
Armand gave her a tentative smile. “When you get there, you can tell my aunt that it is my fault you’re late.”
Gandrett tried to piece together the information while Armand leaped to his feet once more to pick up the bottle Deelah had left. With quick strides, he vanished into the bathing chamber, from where he emerged a few moments—and the sound of running water—later.
“I can do this,” Addie offered as Armand returned to Gandrett’s side where he set down the metal bowl he’d filled with water and dipped a fresh piece of cloth into it.
Armand waved her off. “You’ve done enough already,” he said, glancing at her as she was still fidgeting. “Why don’t you sit down and rest?” he suggested. “You must be exhausted.”
Addie felt her jaw drop and had no control over it. Never once had anyone in Eedwood castle offered her to take a seat and rest. Especially not Lady Linniue. But the young lord’s stare was so compelling that she set foot after foot without even realizing it. Only when she reached the table and sat down did he release her from his surveillance.
“Good,” he said and turned back to Gandrett.
It was hard to watch the way he looked at her, his measuring gaze, the unspoken words on his lips. There was an undeniable bond between them. A sort of closeness that made her heart ache for someone she could confide in.
“I want the whole story, Gandrett,” he demanded, words gentle despite the urging tone in them.
He pulled the cloth from the water, wrung the excess fluid from it, then touched it to the side of Gandrett’s nose where, after she had washed all blood away, a gruesome, swelling bruise was distorting her beautiful face.
She flinched but didn’t complain. “He came out of nowhere,” she said, sounding not even half-convincing. “And then he locked me in that cell and left me to rot… I think.”
Armand’s lips pulled up at one side as if he found her lie adorable. “You need to lie better if you want to lie to me, Gandrett.”
He looked so different from the way Addie remembered him, now in black pants and a blue tunic instead of the silk pajamas, but hair still disheveled as if he’d just climbed out of bed. There was something heartbreakingly beautiful about this amused, caring side of him—despite the fact that he was caring for someone else, and the sorrow in his face had vanished only for a brief moment.
“Maybe you want to enlighten us—” he turned to look at Addie, those eyes inquisitive, “I never asked for your name.”
Addie shifted in her chair, suddenly very much aware of the rags she was wearing. But she squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. “It’s Addie.” She considered bowing her head but decided that for this one moment, while she was sitting at his grace, she would not be the servant girl but the one who had rescued Gandrett from the man whom she had denied help once.
The guilt rumbled in her chest as she held the young lord’s gaze.
So she told the story of how she had been on her way to get something for Lady Linniue—she left out the details of her routine to go to the hidden well—when she had heard Gandrett’s call for help. Of how they’d heard footsteps, of how Gandrett had asked her to get him.
But Armand wasn’t satisfied. “That’s all?”
Addie nodded, so he turned back to Gandrett and dipped the cloth in the bowl again and dabbed it along the bridge of her nose, seeming absorbed.
“Addie, why don’t you go take a look at how Joshua is doing?” he said without taking his eyes off Gandrett’s face.
Addie got to her feet but hesitated. “He’s deep asleep, isn’t he?” After seeing in what shape he had left Gandrett, she had no desire to be next on his list. And after having denied him help once—
“Deelah gave him something, so he’ll be asleep for a while. Plus there are guards right by the door. And the passageway is open. So if you call, someone will come, whether it’s me or my men at the door.” It was clear by the way he said it that she was dismissed.
So Addie pulled up every ounce of courage she could muster and headed for the young lord’s chambers.
His gaze was a weight on her heart. Not because there was pity in it or concern but because of the infinite tenderness as he touched the moist cloth to her cheek, then to the corner of her mouth, and along her lower lip, which she must have split when she had hit the ground face-forward.