Page 97 of A Song of Ash and Moonlight

I’ve missed you.

Before I could speak, his arms came around me, and I melted into his embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling.

I smiled against his chest, dizzy with gratitude. “After only two days?”

“In fact, I started missing you the moment we parted.” He put his hand in my hair, then let out a soft, irritated grunt. “Farrin, you’re icy cold. Come here, love.”

He took my hand gently, and I followed him without question down a quiet hallway, past tidy rooms of stored tack and stacked sacks of feed. At the end of it stood a small room with a stove, a chair, a chest of drawers, a bed. A metal rod with clothes hung upon it spanned the room on one side. There was a faded blue rug on the floor and a messy stack of books on a small bedside table of polished walnut.

I froze on the threshold, tears pricking my eyes as I took in the room. It was the humblest, coziest, sweetest space I’d ever seen, and a fist of sadness squeezed my heart as I realized what it meant.

“Did you come here when you were younger?” I whispered. “To get out of the house?”

“I did,” he answered simply. “Father never liked the smell of horses, so I knew he wouldn’t come here. Trina had—has—her own room at the other end.”

He practically growled the wordhas. Then he brought me clothes:a soft flannel shirt, linen trousers, a pair of thick woolen socks. He stood there frowning at them, then at me. “These will be far too big for you, of course.”

I took them gratefully, held them to my chest. “They’re perfect.”

Our eyes met, and I felt suddenly bashful of my tangled hair and muddy clothes. But Ryder’s expression held no judgment, his gaze so soft that my cheeks burned to behold him. He came to me with a towel, kissed my forehead, and said quietly, “Take your time. I’ll be just down the hall.” He closed the door behind him.

In the quiet, the stove crackling softly, I peeled off my sodden clothes and hung them as best I could by the fire, grateful that this room held no mirrors. If it had, I wasn’t sure I could have done so much as take off my boots. The clothes Ryder had given me were soft and clean, and they smelled like him. I stood for a moment and closed my eyes, feeling enveloped in him through his clothes—his touch, his scent, the warmth of him. I combed the snarls out of my wet hair and weaved it into a loose braid, listening to the thunder rumbling quietly, the steady rain driving against the roof. The storm was fully here, and I was glad. The sound of it was strangely comforting, like the familiar industrious hum of Ivyhill. I took a steadying breath, opened the door, and padded down the hallway in my sock feet.

I found him in one of the tack rooms, folding the horses’ blankets. Of course he hadn’t been able to just sit still and wait for me. He looked up at my approach and froze, then set down the blanket he was holding and sat on a nearby bench with a sharp exhale, something like a laugh. He dragged a hand through his dark hair, which he wore loose to his shoulders.

“I wasn’t at all prepared for that,” he said with a rueful smile. His blue eyes shone in the lamplight. “You look so beautiful right now that I think you should forego ever wearing your fine dresses againand instead simply raid my wardrobe. From now on, it’s trousers and flannel work shirts for you, my beauty, and huge socks especially.”

With his delighted gaze upon me, I felt warm down to my toes, and newly bold. I turned around as Gemma might to model one of Kerrish’s new gowns. “It’s the newest style. Clothes so big you’re practically swimming in them.”

He laughed, his expression soft and dear. “The next royal ball should be interesting. Everyone will be tripping over their hems.” Then he leaned back against the wall and regarded me. “You came here, I think, because you missed me as much as I missed you. But there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Now I was the one to laugh ruefully. “There are many things. Too many. My mind is full of questions and doubts and…” I sighed, shook my head. “Andanger. Anger at so many things I can’t begin to untangle them. It all sits right here.” I tapped my throat. “A burning, an ache I can’t dislodge. And when I’m with you…”

I hesitated, my courage faltering. I could say it, but I couldn’t look at him when I did. “When I’m with you, that ache is easier to bear.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I understand that, both the anger and the relief. The peace that comes when I’m with you. All your anger, your mighty shields, and underneath you’re still soft as a kitten, Farrin.” I heard a smile in his voice. “You inspire me. Did you know that?”

I made myself look at him then, drinking in the sight of him. This bear of a man, sitting patiently before me with his diamond eyes and his dark beard, the folds of his plain gray shirt falling around his broad torso as finely as any royal silk.

“Would you like to talk about any of it?” he asked.

I shook my head, my mouth suddenly dry, my heart racing.

“What would you like to do, then?” His deep voice was velvet soft.

“I want to make love with you,” I said quickly, the words spillingout of me. “I want to…I want to see you. And I want you to see me, all of me. I want to feel…” I paused, flushing.

“You want to feel safe,” he finished quietly.

I nodded. “Yes, I want all of those things, I do, desperately, but…it will be difficult for me. So I’m telling you now, before I lose my words. I want this. I want you. All of you. But I don’t want to make the decisions—what to do next, how to move—because I’ll end up talking myself out of everything. So can you do that, please? Can you…” I hesitated, lifted my gaze to his. “Can you take charge of things completely? I think it will help me if you do.”

“Farrin.” He held out his arms to me. “Come here.”

I obeyed, grateful for even that small direction. I climbed into his lap and nestled against him, sighing happily when his arms slid around me. He held me there, stroking my back; I could feel his heart pounding against mine, the quickening of his breaths. Rain drummed against the roof, sheets of it pulsing in the wind.

Ryder pulled back and looked up at me, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “I can do all of that for you,” he said, “for us, but you must promise me something. If at any point you feel hesitation or discomfort and want to stop, you have to tell me. You know yourself. You know the difference between being brave and being needlessly self-punishing.”

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