Page 73 of Feathers and Thorns

“Hey, it’s just me,” Baz said from beside her.

Enara looked up to see Baz lift his hands in a calming gesture. She visibly relaxed and reached for his wrist to pull him into her.

Soren sat in silent understanding, letting the exchange play out.

“Oh, hey,” Enara said, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

Baz cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. “Never apologize for protecting yourself,” he said, his lips tickling her hairline.

She pushed back far enough to look into his dark eyes. “I thought you were?—”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous. My father is gone, and I still freak out anytime someone makes a sudden movement.” She wrung her hands in her lap, before playing with the strings of the corseted vest she wore.

“You”—Baz kissed her nose—“are not”—he then kissed her temple—“ridiculous.” He finished by planting a firm kiss on her lips.

“You’re right,” she replied, her fear chased away by his touch. “You are ridiculous.” She chuckled before kissing him again.

“Get a room,” Soren joked, her brown eyes glinting in the lamplight.

“We already have one,” Enara said, winking. “And I wouldn’t comment on our sleeping arrangements unless you want us to inquire about yours.” Her eyes flicked to where Rook still looked unimpressed at the adjacent table. Meena was speaking animatedly with Everett, who sat next to him.

Soren sighed, deciding she had lost this one. “Fine, but seriously, we should all get some sleep.”

“Agreed,” Enara said, pushing up from the bench and looping her arm through Baz’s. “Meet you in the morning?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” Soren replied.

“All right, lady, sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.”

* * *

Jai watched as Enara and Baz slipped through the folds of the large tent, no doubt turning in early to prepare for the day to come.

He had been impressed with the duke’s military prowess and sauntered over to commend him on his efforts.

“You’ve done well, brother,” he said, clapping Erick on the back.

“Anything to help,” he replied solemnly. “Anyway”—he stretched—“I’m going to retire for the evening. I have a few more things to go over, and it has already been a long day.”

“Of course,” Jai replied, moving out of his way as Erick pushed up from the wooden pew. The long table comprised itself of ten smaller square tables, borrowed from the local tavern, and was lined with the pews from a nearby church.

“We will reconvene in the morning to begin training,” Erick said, his eyes drifting over to where Everett was seated. “Until then, make the most of this evening. It may be one of the last peaceful ones we have.”

“And that’s how Jai and I ended up on dish duty for a month.”

Meena giggled into her wine goblet as Everett droned on about some childhood story of him and the king-to-be.

How Meena found anything he said humorous, Rook would never understand. He wanted to find a way to exit the conversation, but Meena was having fun, and Maker knew the girl needed it.

He often felt bad that they had chosen to stay in the castle with him. He had offered them more money than they could ever need to start over somewhere else, yet they had always turned him down.

He wished they didn’t feel indebted to him. The whole point of him taking out Madam Elvira’s men was so they could be free. He had seen two girls, with no parents, struggling to make it in the world, and couldn’t help but intervene.

He had been sent into Wrathbrook to follow a lead on Celandine. It hadn’t been often that his father would permit him to leave the manor, and he had relished in his temporary freedom. After beating the information out of a lowlife hush dealer, he had allowed himself a walk about town to clear his mind, frustrated that the lead had turned out to be one he’d already heard before. Saint Celandine lives. He had scoffed to himself before trudging down the cobbled road, toward the tavern in search of a drink.