Page 10 of Artemysia
I find myself breathing deeper, the tightness in my chest easing. Strangely, her scent soothes a part of me even as it unsettles me.
She swipes her hair away with the back of her wrist and continues patching my forehead. With her face inches from mine, she’s concentrating so hard on my eye that she’s biting her lip. It’s adorable, and I need to look away but there’s nowhere else to focus. The apples of her cheeks are pink from a blend of drinking and the chill in the autumn air. She crinkles her nose, which slopes at the tip.
When she gets to the deepest part of the cut near my cheek, I wince. She apologizes, her forehead creasing in concern. Her long, dark lashes finally flick up, and the gold flecks in her brown eyes glint in the low lighting.
She’s astonishingly beautiful.
Small strips of bandages come out, and she sticks them above and below my eye.
“Done. Now it doesn’t look like you’re crying blood. You’re a lot less scary.”
She unscrews a small jar next to the trunk and shakes out a few pieces of dried fruit into a bowl. Then she rises off her knees andplaces it in the rafters above us.
Everything she does confuses me.
“Sometimes an owl comes by, so don’t be startled,” she announces. “You can stay here for the night. If you want to shower in the morning, go by the dorms or the tavern where we were drinking and tell the innkeeper I’m forcing you to clean up. They’ll let you use the facilities.”
She looks me up and down and adds, “Everyone knows I don’t tolerate messy soldiers. Even if you’re not under my direct command.”
Holy shit. Did this woman solve all my problems in ten minutes? She fixed the damn eye I was half-resigned to losing to infection. Who knows what disease that dirty Syf had in his claws when he tried to slash my face off after slaughtering my companions. And now I don’t have to sleep in an alleyway and show up to my meeting with my superiors looking like elkshit because I didn’t sleep or bathe.
I realize I’ve said nothing for a long time.
“Thank you,” I finally murmur, remembering she’s someone who deserves manners. I’d almost forgotten those two words.
Hell, I’ve lost sight of what there is to be thankful for in my life. The attack left me with nothing. My failures eat away at me like acid on my already charred soul.
She draws my attention to the exposed gears. “The clock doesn’t chime, so it won’t wake you up every hour. There’s a mechanical ticking, but I find it comforting, like a heartbeat.”
That grin of hers flays me. Skins me alive, leaving me bare and bleeding. In a world ruled by selfishness and fear, she’s learned to fight like a mountain lion—tough as iron—but still maintains a soft heart.
I’m fascinated.
She doesn’t have to help me. She doesn’t need someone like me in her life, and yet here she is, caring for a stranger.
She goes on. “The owl. If you see him, feed him the dried berries. Don’t approach him too fast, or he’ll claw your other eye out.”
I smile. My face doesn’t know how to anymore, and I guarantee it comes out as a scowl.
She gives me a funny look, like I’m a wild animal she’s taken in. She isn’t wrong.
I’m bleeding, dirty, hungry, angry.
She turns toward the stairs to leave. “Sleep well,” she says.
I want her up close in my face again.
I’ve never been to Stargazer, and it’s likely I’ll never be back.
Say something, you bastard.
It’s too late, and she’s treading down the spiral stairs, out of my life for good.
“Laughing confuses people. Makes them believe I want to hear more talking.” - Riev
Her salt-colored braid disappears from view as she descends the stairway. Like a desperate fool, I lean over the railing, giving no thought to the words about to escape my lips.
“Are you hungry?” I growl down into the stairwell.
