Page 36 of Soul Forge

“Forgive me for asking, Your Grace, butwhydid you marry him?” the bartender asked, setting the wine down in front of her. Elda wasted no time in knocking it back, swallowing half the contents in one go. “He does so much for us, but I’ve never met such a troubled man in all my life.”

“It was him or the ruler of Falkryn,” Reiner answered for her.

“Lord Horthan violently murdered his previous three consorts,” Elda added quietly.

“Ah.” he nodded. “Better a grumpy husband than a murderous one, I suppose.”

She looked around the tavern. “Does he live here?”

Edward shook his head. “Not permanently. Most of the inns throughout the valleys keep a room spare for him, though. He’s a familiar face out here.”

“Doesn’t he have a house?”

“What would be the point?” Reiner asked, then drained the contents of her cup. “My horse should have finished eating bynow. He has a wound on his flank that I need to tend to. Do you have a cloth I can use?”

“Of course. I’ll get you a bowl of salt water too.” Elda watched him duck down to retrieve a clean cloth and a bowl from the hidden storage behind the bar, moving to the shelves to pluck a small handful of salt from one of the many jars lining them, and finally making his way over to the fire. He picked up the kettle warming there and filled the bowl with steaming liquid.

“Thank you. I’ll be back in when I’m done. Keep an eye on her,” Reiner warned, and then she stepped out into the drizzle to care for Atlas in the warmth of the stables.

“Does Sypher really not have a permanent living space?” Elda asked when the door swung shut behind her.

Edward shrugged. “You saddled yourself to a nomad, Your Grace. He never stops moving.”

“Why?”

“Who knows,” Edward shrugged. “He says it’s because he’s constantly hunting demons. I think he’s running from something.”

“Like what?”

“Himself.” The half-orc smiled, relaxing the furrow in his brow. “Sorry, that was dark. What I mean to say is, I think he knows the kind of danger he surrounds himself with. If he never puts down roots, he can’t get anyone else hurt.”

“And they can’t hurt him either,” Elda realised.

“Exactly.” Edward nodded. “I’ve been watching him come and go for seventy years, m’lady. He’s never brought anyone along with him before.”

“If he had a choice, he’d leave me behind.”

“I know him. If he really felt that way, he’d give you his room and find somewhere to sleep outside.” There was a twinkle in Edward’s eye. “He doesn’t speak well. It’s his actions you should pay attention to.”

Elda blinked, stunned by his wisdom.

It made sense – the way he squeezed her hands when she panicked at the wedding, the holding doors open, the looks she couldn’t understand. Even fetching the cloak to shield her from the rain. He’d been in pain and probably wondering if she was going to try and stab him, but he went out of his way to make her dry.

His harsh words were a front to keep people out. If he was venomous, they recoiled and stayed away. But he couldn’t change his muscle memory. His actions were unconscious glimpses of what he was like without his walls. Elda found herself captivated by it despite the demon she now knew lurked beneath his skin.

“He looked to be in pretty bad shape when he went upstairs,” Edward remarked. “I should fetch another cloth and bowl. He certainly needs to splint his ankle, at the very least.”

Elda steeled herself, draining the last of her wine. “I can help with that.”

She remembered the night her father had caught her out of bed and halfway up the tallest ladder in the library, trying to reach a book on the Great War. He’d shaken the ladder, watched her fall, and forced her to limp back to her room. Her punishment had been no healer for two days, so she improvised with a comb and some strips of her underskirt. When she was finally allowed to see a healer, she’d fractured her ankle and cracked two bones in her foot.

“Won’t your captain mind?” Edward asked, pulling her out of the painful memory. The warm water was already in his hands, equipment for a splint laying on the bar beside him, and a clean cloth over his shoulder. She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him collecting them.

“She can’t stop me from helping my husband,” Elda answered with a shrug, forcing a smile and taking the items he offered.

“Very well. It’s the door right at the far end of the hall. Goodnight.” He winked one bright green eye and went back to cleaning his many glasses and tankards.

With the cloth and splint tucked under her arm, the princess carried the bowl carefully up the stairs. Her stomach knotted tighter the closer she got to the door. Behind it waited an entirely new creature, one that had hidden his nature behind the shroud of a hero. Her knuckles paused an inch away from the wood, a shiver of fear scuttling down her spine.

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