Page 79 of The Exile's Curse

She thought he would argue, but after a moment, he merely shrugged. "All right. You know more about such things than I do. Sit still," he said and hauled himself to his feet.

It didn't take long to dry the cloaks. When she was done, her stomach rumbled as Lucien moved them away again so she could work the charm on their clothes next. It had been a long time since luncheon. It felt like a lifetime. And longer still until breakfast, she expected.

"I don't suppose you can illusion up dinner?" she asked with a wry smile.

"No. Water is going to have to—" He stopped, then shook his head. "No, wait. I have these." He pulled out a small waxed paper bag from another inner pocket. She was going to need to make sure her clothes had more pockets from now on. And carry matches and whatever else she could think of to stash within them in case of disaster. "Mints," he said triumphantly. "They gave them to me for the horse. Not much, but it's a bit of sugar, at least."

She'd forgotten the mints. "I have some, too.” She reached into her own pocket and felt for the bag. And the napkin she'd shoved in there at lunch with the nut confection. She pulled that out. It was sadly squashed and broken into small pieces, but it would be edible. Barely a few mouthfuls shared between the two of them, but as Lucien had said, something was better than nothing. She offered it to him. "Let's have this now. Save the mints for morning. Though I think I fed half of mine to the hor—" She broke off suddenly, remembering Spetya was dead. That he'd run over the edge of cliff. And she could have gone with him. Embarrassingly, she broke into sobs.

Lucien was back at her side in an instant and wrapped his arms gently around her. "Shhh. It's just the shock of it all. You're safe here. It’s all going to be well." He let her cry on him, rubbing her back gently and whispering nonsense into her ear until she regained control of herself and pushed back, scrubbing at her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"It's perfectly normal after a scare," he said. "Today has been enough to test anyone."

"I'm not the crying sort." Crying was a luxury she'd learned not to indulge in very often.

"I know," he said. "But I think you can make allowances for yourself. It’s bad enough to fall off a horse at the best of times, let alone in the middle of a storm. Though I’m glad you did."

She frowned, trying to remember the moment. It was foggy. But she remembered the sensation of sliding. "I’m not sure I fell, exactly. The saddle slipped, I think."

His gaze sharpened. "That shouldn’t happen."

"No. But maybe I’m confused. It happened fast."

"There was no sign of your saddle, so it didn’t come off entirely."

She shrugged, then shivered. "Maybe I did fall. There was lightning. The horse shied. And then...that’s all I remember."

He reached around her and picked up the napkin he'd abandoned. "Don’t worry about it. Eat. That will make you feel better. Then maybe you can try to teach me the warming charm. You made my shirt soggy again."

He smiled as he spoke, but it wasn't a bad idea. If they were sharing power through the bond, he should be able to use some of her earth magic to work a charm. She took a few of the smaller pieces and nibbled. Lucien watched her, then ate, too.

He tried to make her take more, but she insisted that he have the larger share. He was bigger than her. Once they'd made sure they'd eaten all the crumbs—which, sadly, didn't take long—she climbed off his lap and tried to teach him the warming charm.

He got the hang of it fast, and his delight in mastering such a small magic made her smile. They practiced while the fire continued to burn, drying out their boots a little and her stockings. When Lucien put the last branch on the fire, the sliver of sky visible through the cave’s entrance was black.

"We'd better get organized," he said. "The temperature will keep falling. And I don't want anything joining us for the night." He looked toward the entrance and raised a hand. A perfect semblance of a roaring fire blazed to life, lighting the cave better than the actual flames.

The ease with which he wielded illusion always startled her. If he hadn't been a Truth Seeker, he would have been, no doubt, highly sought after. Pity it gave off no warmth. "Could you add a warmth charm to an illusion?" she asked.

His brows lifted. "Perhaps. But not tonight. I don't want to waste any effort." He looked around the cave. "I'm thinking if we put my clothes down as a base layer and then use yours and the cloaks on top, we should be able to stay warm enough if we take turns sleeping and using the charm."

"You want us to take our clothes off?" she squeaked. "Lucien, it's freezing."

He nodded. "I know. But the army trained us to survive in odd conditions. Skin to skin is warmer than clothes."

"You snuggled up with your fellow soldiers?" It was an amusing thought.

"One fellow soldier. When faced with the choice of freezing or not. It wasn't my best night's sleep ever, but it was effective. Hairy though." He smiled. "You at least smell better."

That made her laugh. "I wouldn't be so sure of that after today." She suspected she smelled of mud and horse and damp wool and fear sweat. And smoke. Not that she should care what Lucien thought she smelled of. Even so, the thought of sleeping beside him skin to skin made her nervous. The night after the wedding had been a moment of insanity. Never to be repeated. But if that were true, then she shouldn't feel awkward about doing as he suggested. But the bump in her pulse wasn't just embarrassment.

"Your virtue is safe with me," Lucien said. "I'm suggesting this to get us through the night, not to get you back into my bed. A damp and smelly cave is hardly arousing."

Somehow she didn't think he was being entirely truthful. And that he, like her, wasn't entirely unaffected by his proposal. But she trusted him to keep his word.

"All right," she agreed. "Where exactly did you have in mind?"

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