Page 36 of The Devil In Blue
Curled on my side with the thin top sheet draped over me and my head on a down-filled pillow was enough to put me into a nice slumber, but it was the heavy arm wrapped around my waist that was the true culprit. That and the long, muscled body fit to the bends of mine and pressed to my back.
No one had ever slept beside me like that. It was protective and comforting.
We were both fully dressed, me under the sheet and him on top of it. The steady drum of Petris’s heart tapped against my shoulder blades and the almost completely silent sound of his breath tickled my ear. He was sleeping.
Slowly, I turned my head to see the aged silver of his mask in my peripheral.
Petris had stayed with me.
I remembered him holding my hands. I recalled him saying things to me but I hardly knew what they were. But whatever he did had taken away the confusion and panic. How long we sat there talking and simply being in each other’s presence was another foggy instance to add to the many that littered my mind, but I was glad for it. I hadn’t felt so rested in ages. Something about the way he embraced me felt reassuring.
No one had ever offered that. Not in that way.
Lucien offered walls. Food. Clothing. Simple conversation and education. He never offered his embrace. His company on days when he had nothing else to do was so rare.
I slid my hand down Petris’s forearm to his fingers and slid mine between them. He was soft and warm and gentle, a stark contrast to the master he served.
What would Rune think of him being in my bed? He’d been so furious about Lucien’s mere name before. Perhaps the two were so close that he would not care or be mad over it.
I could only hope. The last thing I wanted was to get Petris in trouble for consoling me after the king brought me to tears.
I lay there in silence for some time before I carefully rolled over onto my other side, sliding my hands under my cheek to stare at the mask in front of me. I couldn’t even tell if his eyes were opened or closed. Some strange magic seemed to conceal them in blackness no matter what angle I was staring from. I wanted to assume he was sleeping so I could simply watch him. Not that the mask would move or twitch like a real face would, but it fascinated me to know someone was behind that veil. Someone claiming to be hideous and yet kinder than anyone I’d ever known.
I lifted my hand, my fingers skimming over the shape of his lips, up along his cheek, and down the straight bridge of his nose.
“Don’t take it off,” he whispered.
I wasn’t even startled by his voice. It fit into the silence so easily.
“I won’t,” I said, my fingers moving along the outer edge and down to his chin. “I don’t mind your mask.” I took a few deep breaths, tucking my hand under my cheek again. “I do wish I could see your eyes, though.”
“You wouldn’t like them.”
“Are they hideous, too?”
“Perhaps.”
“Hideous things don’t bother me.”
“What about beautiful things?”
“Maybe I think hideous things are beautiful.”
I thought of the casquet in the catacombs. The way Ellee’s skeleton looked, so aged and still and dusty. And then I thought of how calming it was to lay next to her. She was hideous and macabre to most, but to me, she was gorgeous in her peaceful silence.
What was wrong with me?
My eyes must have betrayed my thoughts because Petris shifted, drawing my attention.
“Your mind is wandering again,” he whispered. “Where is it going?”
“I’m worried about something.”
“What?”
“I’m worried the king is right. There’s… something missing inside me. So many dark spaces where memories should be.”
“You said you remember your parents. The farm. The massacre.”
