Page 45 of Muse

Suddenly, Adora snarled and shouted, “Get out!”

There was nothing else said. Adora turned toward the fire, her back to us. I put on my cloak at the door, and Soren grabbed my luggage from where I'd left it near the front door.

The whole situation felt surreal, even in the moment. I’d only been home for a matter of minutes, and my mother had thrown me out.

Soren had parked his carriage around the corner, where the driver waited with the horse. As he loaded up my bags, I pulled my cloak more tightly around me and stared up at the fading sky.

“Where shall I tell the driver you wish to go?” Soren asked, and I snapped back to look at him.

“What?” I asked and already tears of despair welled in my eyes. “You… I thought you offered… I don’t have anywhere…”

“You are more than welcome to stay in my guest house for as long as you’d like,” he hurried to explain. “But I didn’t want to presume anything. I thought you may be more comfortable with Briar or Wrenley.”

“I… I just want to crawl in bed and sleep,” I told him honestly and wiped roughly at my eyes.

"To my house, it is then," Soren said.

After the short carriage ride to his estate, Soren led me through the gardens behind his house, around the pond reflecting the moon. Leaves crunched underneath my feet, and I could see the green glow of his workshop windows.

A staircase ran along the exterior southerly wall of the workshop, leading up to a second-story guest apartment. Soren went ahead of me, still carrying my bags, and he unlocked the door.

He ducked into the room and hurriedly lit the candles hung on wrought-iron sconces using a quick flame that flicked out of his fingertips. A stone fireplace sat along one wall, and he started it to ward off the chill.

As he did that, I took in the room as much as my tired mind would allow.

"Like I said, it's not much," Soren repeated, the way he had twice before on the way over here. "But I've had muses stay here from time to time if they need it, and it serves its purpose."

A pitched roof with exposed wooden beams limited the floor space. A squat, plain dresser sat under one window, and a narrow desk and chair under the other.

The bed was covered in a violet and blue quilt, and the headboard was made of dark wood with arcane symbols carved into it. On the wall behind it, partially covered by the bed, was a mural of an enchanted forest.

“That’s a lovely painting,” I commented.

It was the first thing I had since we’d gotten in the carriage, and it was enough to stop Soren in his tracks. He’d been rushing around, getting things in order – starting the fire, closing the curtains, fluffing the pillow.

He dropped the pillow and looked over at me, then glanced back at the mural.

“Yes, it is lovely,” he agreed. “Another muse painted that when they were staying here.”

I nodded, then sat on the bed because I was exhausted.

“There’s a small washroom there.” He pointed to a door on the other side of the fireplace. “And I’ll leave the backdoor to the main house unlocked so you can use the kitchen whenever you want.”

I nodded again.

"And I'll just be in the house if you need anything." He studied me for a moment. "Do you need anything?"

As he'd been talking, he'd been moving backward, standing halfway out on the landing. He'd already put so much distance between us.

But the one thing I needed, the only thing I really wanted was for him to hold me. Not even in a romantic way or desire for more than that. But I just knew that I would feel better with his arms around me.

I could never ask that of him, not when he'd made it abundantly clear that his interest in me was purely professional, and my mother had brought up the Regula to him. It wouldn't be fair to him to even ask, putting him in a position where he could only decline me.

So I only shook my head. I knew I should thank him. He’d already helped me so much. But I couldn’t seem to form any words just then.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted after the day you’ve had,” Soren said, and it seemed like he was speaking to fill the silence.

There was something in his dark eyes, something like an apology, and he hesitated in the doorway, with his fingers grazing the handle.

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