Page 82 of The Ballad of a Bard

Thirty Seven

He’d held her the entire night.

His arm held her close, his soft, laboured breathing in the shell of her ear as the hours passed. She almost didn’t sleep with how close they were, almost didn’t want to let the night fly by. West slept peacefully without any issue, as did Cobalt. Her mind was a ticking clock in the grand hall as she sensed his calm heartbeats. With the power handed down from her, Crimson had rolled over until she faced the Saint and lowered her palm to his toned chest. With a close of her eyes and a silent command shooting into her soul, she increased the intensity of the pulse.

It was like home.

To hear the way it beat in perfect rhythm, to sense the blood flowing there and to have the echo of it permanently ingrained in her head. It wasn’t something that she intended to forget for a long time, nor would she want to. Not when it vibrated along her veins, skittered over her skin and danced with her own heart. She rolled over with her back firmly sloped against his chest, withthe escalated drumming of his myocardium, Crimson fell asleep.

And come the morning, she didn’t want to move, to leave, to disturb that fraction of peace that he’d given her. Only to find that Cobalt had made a mad dash for the kitchens to find something to eat before his stomach ate him, or so he claimed, she found West still asleep. His dark brown hair was tousled, unperfect for once and she wanted to touch it. His lashes dragged across his cheek and he looked so peaceful, relaxed in his slumber.

Crimson fingered the longest strand, the one that fell to his nose and found it softer than she expected it to be for some reason. He always wore it pushed back, in a sloping arch that ended by his ears, with the rest of it closely shorn to his head.

She turned in the navy covers, facing her entire body towards him as she inched closer. Until she was almost in his arms, and his breath caressed her face with a slight tickle of warmth. His shirt must have shifted in the middle of the night, because it was askew enough for her to see the majority of his golden skin along his shoulders. Why collar bones were attractive, she wasn’t sure.

But everything about him was attractive.

Carefully, so tenderly so that it wouldn’t wake him, she kissed him. Just once, enough to comfort that ache that would never leave her.

He was good, he was gentle, he was kind.

And Crimson wanted to love him.

In truth, she may already have begun to.

That terrified her. Enough so for her to pull her arm back and start to move, start the day before she could kiss him and then they’d never leave the bed.

Crimson shut the bathroom door behind her and let out a deep breath. With steady hands, she freed the piece of crumpledparchment from her pocket and began to unfold it. She’d been so close to telling him, so close to sharing the note with him but then he’d looked at her likethatand every rational thought flew out of her head like a robin on swift wings.

She could make out the ink through the backside, flipping it over until the elegant scrawl peered up at her.

Your time is running out, little Saint. See how fast it flies, see how far I’m willing to go.

Mark these words.

If you don’t find him by the next full moon, you’ll never be able to see your brother again.

C.

Crimson covered her mouth as a tremor broke out. It rippled across her skin and echoed into her bones. Her fingers shook as she threw the paper as hard as she could, watching it flutter in the air like a butterfly. It drifted towards the ground, landing in the toilet. Quickly, before West could wake and find it, she pulled the silver handle and watched the water take it down the pipes.

Another note, another threat.

But they were so close to finding her father.

And then it would all be over.

No more notes, no more threats, and Cobalt would be safe. As he should be.

There was a knock on the door and she whirled around at it. It didn’t come from the bathing door, which meant it was on the furthest ones that led into the apartments. Footsteps sounded as West rose from the bed, ambling over to whomever knocked. She heard the door creak open and acouple voices speaking.

Thalias’s baritone came tumbling out a minute later as West laughed deeply at whatever he saw there. “He made it to the gardens before we stopped him. But that was after he’d consumed half of the tray.”

Crimson didn’t need to hear more to know that they had her brother in their clutches. She slid out of the bathing chamber and padded into the main room. Her suspicions were correct as she saw the smear of what appeared to be peach jelly across Cobalt’s face and the sticky sugar on every single one of his fingers. Damien held him by his shoulder but that didn’t stop the very proud-of-himself look that her sibling bore.

“What did he do now?” She sighed and motioned for him to come by her side. He glanced up at Damien before the sentry released him and Cobalt pranced into the room. His tongue darted out and licked each of his fingers until he deemed them clean, and then swiped the leftover jam off his cheek.

West rotated on his bare foot, grinning like a cat. “It would appear as thoughBluehere, managed to sneak into the kitchens and steal an entire tray of freshly baked scones. While the cook proceeded to yell at him from across the way, he ran out with the tray still in his hands and caused quite the stir in the castle. Four guards were chasing him and only succeeded in catching him after he’d downed half of the treats.”

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