Page 75 of Lady of Shadows

Sorin stood then and crossed to the door, bringing the food in and bringing it back to the sofa. He set it on the end table, and the smell of braised meat and fresh bread floated over to her. He fixed her a small plate and sat down once more,extending it to her. She reached for it, but when she went to pull it towards herself, he held firm, until she brought her eyes back to his. “I will never stop, Scarlett. I will never stop telling you that you matter and that you make a difference. I will never stop telling you that you are a necessity in my life, and I sure as shit will be sure and say it extra on the hard days.”

He released the plate to her, and she didn’t say anything as she brought it to her lap and ate the small dinner in silence. He had conjured a book from somewhere and read beside her while she ate, lost in her thoughts once more. The words he had just said settled deep within her. All of them. And not just this evening. Words from time in Baylorin floated back to her. The little things from tending to her wound after Alaric had hit her to ensuring she ate along the trip here to bringing her gloves tonight. He always seemed to know. He knew when to push her and when to let her be. He knew how to coax her out of foul moods and when she just needed someone to sit with her in the quiet.

“Did you get enough to eat?” he asked, noting her now empty plate.

She nodded mutely, and he took it from her, setting it back onto the tray on the end table. He picked up his book and began reading once more.

“What are you reading?” she asked quietly.

“A story about an arrogant creature of shadows who turns out to be an unknown princess,” he answered, not looking at her.

Scarlett groaned.

“Wait, I’m not done,” he continued. “She meets a devilishly handsome and splendid prince and—”

“I regret asking,” she murmured, leaning back into the sofa.

The book closed, and an arm came around her shoulder. There was a soft brush of lips against her temple that had her leaning into him. He pulled a pillow from beside him and placed it in his lap. “You need to rest, Scarlett.”

“You don’t need to sit in here with me, Sorin.” They usually spent their evenings lounging with the others in the den, playing cards or billiards or simply visiting.

“I am exactly where I need to be, Love,” he answered, gently pulling her down to the pillow.

She turned onto her back so she could look up at him. His fingers grazed along her cheek, her jaw, her forehead. “Why do you think she took me from here?” she asked thoughtfully.

Sorin’s brow furrowed at her question. “Who?”

“My mother. Why do you think she found it better to raise me in the mortal lands? What was she hiding me from? And why?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “It is something I have often pondered though.”

“Today, tonight, while I trailed along the river, I thought of how my life might have been different. If she had made different choices. If I had been raised as a princess instead of a healer’s daughter taught to kill and torture…” she trailed off.

“You cannot think that way. There are too many what ifs. Too many variables. You likely would not have met your sisters if that were the case. Or Cassius.”

Her heart clenched at the sound of his name. “That’s true, I suppose, but I also wouldn’t have experienced the losses I have either,” she sighed. Sorin was playing with a piece of her long hair now, twirling it around a finger while his head rested against a hand propped on the back of the sofa. “I should really change or bathe or something.” She was still wearing her training clothes and had her boots propped on the end of the sofa.

He smiled and flames licked up and down her body. A moment later, she was in soft lounge pants and a top with two small straps. “Now you don’t have to get up.”

“That is rather convenient,” she murmured, although she could still really use a bath. She could feel the day clinging to her. He was still watching her as he wound a lock of hair around his finger, the soft smile back on his lips. That look back in his eyes. “You’ve been looking at me like that all night,” she whispered.

“How have I been looking at you?”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She couldn’t form the words. She didn’t want to form the words because what if she was wrong?No. Today, on this hard day, she couldn’t face it if she was wrong. So instead she said, “Thank you, Sorin.”

His finger halted its twirling. “For what?”

“For pulling me from the river tonight.”

“Thank you for trusting me enough to give me the privilege of doing so despite everything,” he answered, fingers grazing her cheek once more.

She reached up and allowed her own fingers to brush along his cheek, his jaw. “I told you that day in the Courtyard, Sorin. I do not blame you for my mother’s death. You are not responsible for that.”

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly. “Thank you for that, Scarlett.”

She brought her hand back down, resting it on her stomach as she turned her head to watch the flickering flames once more. After a few minutes, she heard Sorin pick up his book and begin reading.

Minutes or hours later, she didn’t know, she felt familiar strong arms scooping her up as she groggily nestled into his chest. At some point she had fallen asleep in the comfortable silence, Sorin justthereif she needed him. The bed dipped as he got in on his side, and she rolled to him. His arm came around her, tucking her into his side, her cheek on his chest and leg draped over his.

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