“We are. Thank you.”
He waves us off. “We may not be under Your Majesty’s rule, given that we’re not a gryphon clan, but we have only ever prospered thanks to your reign and proximity to our village. I’ll aid you however I can.”
I barely have a chance to thank him again before he hurries off. I glance at Daenn, but he’s lost in his own thoughts. His emotions are tangled again, but worry is a pall over the others. After a moment, he pulls himself back from his own mind. “Come. He always gives our clan the same room when we stay here.”
I follow him up the stairs and to the door at the end of the hall. He holds the door open for me. The room is large, with a single four-poster bed that calls me immediately back to Chambledon and my years with Tolomon. A tarnished copper bath peeks out from behind a large dressing screen, and, across from where we stand, a door leads out onto the balcony. I frown at it—it seems like a security risk I’m surprised Daenn is comfortable with, but he responds to my unspoken worry.
“Our gryphons sleep on the balcony. Storm will find us after his hunt and act as guard.”
“Oh.” Of course. It’s an ideal situation, in that light. I can see why this is a stopping point for the clan. I wander a few steps, examining the room more closely. Daenn moves to the fireplace and begins stacking the fresh wood stored beside it onto the grate.
The bed draws my eye, and heat creeps through me. We’ve shared a bed before, at the clan. We’ve slept within touch of each other while on our journey.
But this…feels different. In the mountain, it was because of the watching clan and, I suspect, Daenn’s well-earned belief I might try to run. In the jungle, Daenn wanted me between him and Storm, the safest place in the camp.
But here…there are no watching eyes. There’s no danger. I could suggest I sleep on the floor, or demand he does, but…
I don’t want to.
I want to sleep with him within reach. I want him to pull me into his arms, curl his body around me as we sleep—that longing is hopeless, I know that. But surely it’s not unreasonable of me to want him near. And from a logical standpoint,we both are in sore need of rest. It would be silly for either of us to sleep anywhere but the bed.
A throat clears behind us from the doorway. The innkeeper stands there, a steaming pot of water hanging from each hand. “If I may—”
Daenn rises from the small but happy fire he’s just finished. “Of course.”
He takes one of the pots from the man, and together they pour both into the tub. The innkeeper heaves up the empty pots. “My son will be up with more in a moment.”
He bustles out again.
“You can bathe first.” My cheeks flush at the need to discuss this. “I can see about our supper while you do.”
Hesitation winds through the link. “You go first,” he finally says, glancing at the balcony, and I immediately know exactly what he’s concerned about.
“Do you think Viggo will send men after us tonight?”
Daenn glances at me, surprised, and a small smile, like I’ve caught him in the act of worrying, slips over his face. My heart’s reaction to the sight is ridiculously disproportionate to the expression. How can such a minute look affect me so deeply?
“Probably not,” he admits. “But I’d rather not leave you so unprotected.”
“You aren’t leaving. You’re taking care of yourself.”
“I can take care of myself, as you say, after Storm returns.”
His stubbornness is settling and making itself at home, I see. I refrain from a growl. “Will you at least eat something?”
“Whenever the food is ready, yes.” Daenn begins unlacing his armor.
I hurry to him. “Here, let me help.”
He relinquishes his arm to me, and I work at the ties for his bracer—his original bracer—in silence. He doesn’t need my help—he’s donned and removed his armor without my help for years. But I need something to do, and… maybe I want the excuse to be near him. His presence is soothing.
His gaze skims over me as I work, removing his bracer before moving on to his cuirass. I keep my head down, eyes focusing on my task, because we stand so close now I don’t know if I could bear the weight of his gaze at such a close distance.
I break the silence. “You’re still as stubborn as ever, I see. How did Eskil put up with you for so long?”
He huffs out a laugh. “He asks the same thing.”
“Of course he does.” Worry flickers through me for Eskil and the other comatose clansfolk. I’m not even sure if it’s mine or his, but I don’t want to dwell in it. “Do you remember the first time I helped you put on your new armor?”