Page 171 of The Last One
Stunned, I move over to the bed and fall to my knees. “It’s all sobeautiful.”
Separi’s image wavers before me—not because she’s been enchanted but because tears pool in my eyes. “I’m so thankful to you—to both of you,” I say, acknowledging Ridget. “I will never forget your kindness.”
Ridget bows her head, and then she and Separi gather the buckets of dirty water and the dirty towels. “There are two more buckets of clean, hot water for bathing,” Ridget says. “Keep the peppermint oil and soap.”
Separi opens the door and turns back to me with a smile. “Dinner will be brought up soon. If you need anything before then, just let me know.”
“Thank you,” I say. Once they scuffle down the hallway, everything is quiet again except for the pounding of my grateful heart.
53
Dinner is served in my room for our privacy.
Jadon lifts the luclite tunic and holds it out before him. He nods with approval before placing it back over the chair. “Olivia would say all of this”—he waves at my tunic and breeches—“isridiculous.”
“And if she places a single loose eyelash on it…” I say.
Philia laughs. “I talked to the fishmonger, who said that he saw what he thought was a child riding a horse with a soldier sharing the saddle. AndthenSepari bought mugs of ale from a hostess who says the soldier who shared her bed mentioned going to Weeton. And finally, a child followed us back here and asked if I’d lost my sister. I said ‘yes,’ and he pointed west and said, ‘She went that way.’ And Weeton is that way.”
Jadon nods. “We’re going to Weeton, then. If the map is correct, we’ll get there…in one million days. If we’re lucky.”
“Good news on that front,” Philia says. “Separi’s gifted us with two of her best horses. And Ridget gave me several special apples to keep them healthy.”
Their kindness is extraordinary—from the hot water and comfortable boarding to the horses and armor.
And the food…
When it’s brought in, I almost faint with delight.
Roast beef. Roasted potatoes. Wine. Fruits. Creamy cakes. Honeycakes. In silence, we eat dinner before the roaring fire, barely chewing before swallowing. The taste of a delicious, cooked meal is no illusion.
Philia, gnawing on a hunk of bread, says, “This meal is filling us up for the first time in days. I’m no longer as picky an eater as I used to be.”
I drain the rest of my ale, and my spirit soars. Between the food, the hospitality, and the armor, I’m feeling almost like my old self. Well, the self I met at Veril’s cottage.
After we eat, Jadon, better rested after his nap and bath, slumps beside me, his back against the bed. He’s full of good food and drink.
Philia rises from the floor and stretches. “And now I’m going to bed. I’ve had enough of this day.” She takes with her a cup of ale and a rum cake.
Both Jadon and I say, “Good night.”
After Copperhair leaves the room, Jadon groans. “That was one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. I haven’t tasted ginger since my days in Brithellum.”
I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “That wasn’t a ginger sauce with the roast, Jadon. That was horseradish.”
“So now you think that your palate is better than mine?” Jadon challenges.
I chomp on a roasted carrot. “I don’tthink. Iknow.”
His eyebrow lifts. “Let me test you, then.”
“Go right ahead,” I sniff, chin up. “Prepare to be amazed.” My pulse spikes as I grin—as I dare to take that intentional deep breath I’ve yearned for since meeting him in Maford. And then I take another. Another…
Jadon picks up a napkin and folds it the long way three times.
Just like that, my breath catches, and I lean away from him. “What are you about to do?”
“Blindfold.” He crawls behind me. “You scared?”
