Page 70 of Blood of Wolves

14

Aeres

“Thank you, my lady.”

Tessa scraped together a smile for the elderly woman she’d just delivered soup to, and knew it must look strained. “You’re welcome.” She straightened and searched the hall to find that the bowl she’d handed over had been the last; the people of Aeres sat on benches, and on rugs, or stood up against the stone walls, the room quiet save the sounds of slurping, and of fire, and of a fussy baby.

A quiet conversation between two farmer’s daughters caught her attention. Both looked near to be Tessa’s age, and sat one on either side of their mother, holding yarn balls while their mother knitted with precise little motions, lips pressed to a line.

“Mum,” one said. “What happens if they breach the walls?”

“They won’t.”

“I know, butwhat if?”

The other daughter scowled. “You know what: it’ll be just like Ama said: they’ll kill the boys and raped the girls.”

The girl’s sister gasped, and Tessa did, too, clapping a hand over her mouth to choke back the sound. She wasn’t as naïve as she once was, nor was she stupid – she knew that when a palace was captured, there were…consequences. But to have it said aloud like that, to have to think about it now…

“Be quiet,” the mother hissed, cuffing the girl in the back of the head.

“Ow! Mother!”

“Stop frightening your sister.”

Someone touched Tessa’s arm, and she jumped, and turned to meet Astrid’s concerned expression.

“Why don’t you go and rest, my lady? You’ve been going back and forth from the kitchen since dawn. You must be tired.” A polite way of saying Tessa looked ragged. “And everyone seems to be settled for now.”

Tessa started to argue – she didn’t want to play the spoiled lady who needed to lie down; she couldn’t imagine resting now, anyway, in this endless day of tense waiting – but then thought she might take advantage of the opportunity.

“Thank you, Astrid, I think I will.”

But rather than her room, she went up to the ramparts.

The cold stole her breath, when she first stepped out onto the flat expanse of the roof. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her and noted how much had changed since she was last up here. Three times as many guards lined the parapet, on watch with spears on their shoulders, swords at their hips, and bows at their backs. All the braziers were lit, firelight dancing in broad strokes across basket after basket of arrows, staged and ready.

Every other time she’d stood on the ramparts, she’d been greeted right away with nods and respectful “my lady”s, but now, no one seemed to notice her, all eyes trained on the still-smoking ruin of what had once been the city down by the harbor. She glimpsed light in the distance: hundreds of torches converging along the road, moving inexorably closer.

Amidst the plain, dark cloaks of the guards, she finally spotted the sheen of rich velvet, and the silver stitching of the royal crest.

“Rune,” she called, as she approached, and he turned from the wall to meet her halfway.

In the split second after he’d turned, before he’d smiled – so warm, so glad to see her, despite the lines of fatigue etched into his face – she’d glimpsed a worry in his expression that left her shaking. The enemy was coming; their time was running out. But then he caught her up in both arms and pulled her in tight to his chest, and the thought was a little more bearable, the night a little less dark.

Tessa wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest, against the unyielding hardness of leather and mail, so different from the heat and softness of his skin. She couldn’t feel his heartbeat through his armor, but she could tell that it was racing, thanks to the rustle of his breath against her ear, as he leaned down to tuck his face into her throat.

“Hello,” he murmured.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Hello.”

If the breeze flitted down below in the yard, it raked up here so high; it pulled his cloak around her, until she was surrounded by soft velvet, and the scent of a cedar chest, and of the pine oil she’d used to braid his hair hours ago.

She could have stood like that forever, but didn’t protest when he drew back, and searched her face.

“You’re tired,” he murmured. “You should sleep.” Thewhile you canhung unspoken in the vapor between them.

“I won’t be able to. Not if you’re up here.”

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