Page 55 of Destroyer

These thoughts chased each other through her head as she made her way to the guest wing. When she arrived in that long stretch of hall, narrower and lower-ceilinged than the dormitory wing, she realized she had no idea which room was Fen's.

She stood awkwardly near the first door, wondering what to do. She couldn’t go down the hall and knock on every door until she found him. Still sweaty and shaken from the deliberation, and desperately in need of food, she found herself deflating. She couldn’t see Fen in this state.

Exhausted and somewhat dejected, Ru turned and walked back to the dormitory wing. She needed a bath and a hearty meal, and then… then she would look for Fen.

“If it isn't the notorious Ruellian Delara.”

That deeply accented voice could only belong to one person.

Ru stopped in her tracks and looked up, beaming, to see Fen. He was coming from the direction of her room, black coattails swinging behind him as he strode briskly toward her.

“What are you doing here?” she said, her heart lighter just at the sight of him. “I thought you were staying in the guest wing.”

He stopped before her, so close she could see the delicate hairs curling out from his slightly open shirt, a faint freckle on his nose. Motes of dust drifted through a beam of sunlight, bathing them in faint colors.

“I was looking for you,” he said.

Her heart leaped. “And I was looking foryou. Why weren’t you at the deliberation?” She hadn’t meant to ask immediately, wanted to seem nonchalant as if she wasn't so desperate to know where he'd been. But the question came to her lips despite herself.

“The professors wouldn’t let me attend,” he said, smiling apologetically. He tilted his head slightly, a lock of black hair falling over one eye. “Lyr and I tried, you know, to support you. But outsiders aren’t allowed to witness the mysterious inner workings of the Tower, apparently.”

Then his face fell, his expression hardening. He moved closer still, and she wondered if he felt her heart pounding. Lifting a hand, he traced a thumb gently over her cheek.

She hissed in pain as his thumb brushed against the bruise.

“I wish I could kill him again,” he breathed, voice low and angry. “He deserved worse than a beheading.”

Ru’s breath caught at the darkness in his tone. “It’s fine,” she said. “It only needs ice.”

Fen gave her a look as if he couldn’t imagine anything worse than a bruise on Ru’s cheek, which made her feel too hot, too close. And yet there was nowhere else she would rather have been.

“Where have you been since the deliberation?” she asked, trying to change the subject to something less intense.

“Looking for you,” he said again. He made no move to increase the distance between them, his thumb still soft against her jaw.

She felt almost weak in the knees, but she was sure it must be her hunger. “You found me,” she said.

“I’d prefer you less battered and bruised,” he said, his smile returning, “but it’s a relief to see you up and about.”

There were so many things she wanted to ask him about — how he had known the King's Guards would turn on them, how he managed to sneak into their traveling party in disguise, why he was still there, who he was… really. Instead, her brain stumbling at the simple touch of his thumb and his gentle smile, she said, “I’m leading the research team. To study the artifact.”

He hummed approvingly. “I expected nothing less of you.”

She swallowed, suddenly nervous. But she had to ask. “Will you… stay and help?”

He gave her a long look. “Do you remember when I said I’d die before letting any harm come to you or your little rock? I don’t know where else you think I’d go.”

Ru could have floated away on a beam of sunlight.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together. First, with tea in Ru’s rooms, and then walking the grounds of the Tower while Ru gave a rudimentary history of the building and its uses over the ages. Fen was fully engrossed, which only encouraged her further. She told him about her studies and how the concept of magic had initially captivated her.

“It was my brother,” she admitted under the shade of a swaying fruit tree in the eastern courtyard. “He used to play these songs for me when I was young. We had a family lute that was passed down from our grandmother; she’s where he got the talent. He taught himself how to play and he’d practice his own compositions for me in the back garden. I remember, on days like this when it was bright and warm, I would doze in the sun while beautiful melodies swept over me. The only way I could describe how I felt was… well, magic. I was so sure in those moments that the music itself was, somehow, altering my state of being.”

Fen listened closely and quietly, his eyes fixed on her. Ru looked away.

“It’s silly,” she muttered.

“It’s not,” he said. “Nothing you say is silly.”

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