Page 84 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
‘I’ve done more scandalous things this evening,’ I pointed out dryly. Having my breasts out in a lord’s house being one of them.
‘True.’ She relented, although she wouldn’t look at me, giving a scratch on the side of one of the trunks her undivided attention. ‘You may need to speak to Emrys for me and make an apology.’
I frowned. ‘Why?’
‘He wasn’t best pleased with how I woke him up,’ she muttered, her cheeks flushed, which made me instantly suspicious. Alma didn’t get embarrassed.
‘He was asleep?’ I couldn’t imagine Emrys doing anything so remotely mundane.
‘He sleeps deeper than you do.’
That instantly made me remember all the demented ways Alma had woken me up in the past.
‘What did you do?’
‘I’d rather not remember it.’ She practically shuddered, clapping her hands together to usher me from the room. ‘You’d best get out of my way while I sort out this room.’
Her words brought forward the horrific realisation that I’d actually have to stay in that miserable-looking bed. A maid could come in unannounced at any moment, a spy to see thatI was behaving myself. I didn’t need the rumours of what it meant to be missing from the bed. The thought unsettled me. I hadn’t spent a night apart from Alma since Daunton. The nightmares still prevailed with her company, but it was better than being alone.
Resigned to my punishment, I climbed through the wardrobe, finding myself crouched on the other side, emerging from the Portium door in the back shelves of the library. Dusting off my sparring trousers as I made my way through the labyrinth of bookcases, guided by the orange glow from the hearth.
Wondering why the house hadn’t taken me straight to William or the study, I continued on.
I got my answer as I came to a stop between the final shelves.
Bloody bastard house.
Emrys sat before the fire, one leg thrown up on the small footstool and a glass of amber liquid dangling precariously from his fingers as he rolled it with boredom.
He’d changed too, crisp fresh shirt partially undone, sleeves rolled up to show the scarred muscular surface of his forearms and the light dusting of hair that caught the fire’s light.
Aware he was being watched, he turned his head lazily to see me. Taking in the bedraggled sight of me – my messy damp hair tangled around my ears, loose training attire and my bare feet on the rug. A tension moved through his jaw, a power to his gaze that unsettled me.
‘Have you come to torment me some more, Croinn?’ he asked, dropping his foot and finishing his drink before leaning forward to set the glass on a stack of books. He bowed his head to rub the back of his neck. Dark hair falling forward onto his brow.
I stopped at the large table, like a barrier between us, hands fiddling with the edge of my tunic. ‘I came to see William. How is he?’
‘He has a sprain and some bruising. Both will be healed by morning. I gave him a sleeping draught so the healing incantations work better. Sitting still isn’t a skill he possesses.’ There was a sharpness in his gaze that told me he was annoyed I possessed the same habit.
‘I’m sorry,’ I replied.
His dark brow raised. ‘For getting caught?’
‘I should have waited for you,’ I admitted. No matter what had happened with Montagor, I’d been foolish to let fear guide me so recklessly and William had paid the price. ‘I was … angry with everything.’
Emrys brought his knuckles to his lips, considering me thoughtfully over them. ‘It’d take a king’s commander years to figure out how to fight magic that dark on its own terms.’ There was a lightness to his tone as if I’d impressed him.
‘You could say I have a secretly vicious temperament.’ I let my gaze drop to the table, considering the vastness of his notes that he’d left out, as if he’d been disturbed from work. The chaotic nature of them as he spoke of Mr Thrombi, of the thing he’d turned into. The ancient nature of the dark.
The impossibility of everything.
‘I wouldn’t say there is anything secretive about it.’ His voice softened, as I felt the weight of his presence where he’d silently come to stand behind me. The power of his warrior’s build radiated heat as his hand rested next to my own, the warmth of him travelling down my back.
‘Do I want to know why the house is forcing me to crawl through a wardrobe?’ I asked over my shoulder, wondering if it was some form of devious punishment.
‘At least you can fit through yours,’ he offered wryly, and it was then I saw the tear at the shoulder of his shirt. As if he’d caught it trying to do the same thing. ‘The house misbehaves in my absence; it also doesn’t like competition for my sleeping arrangements.’
‘Jealous?’ I teased him with a smile, watching his face darken with annoyance as the door behind us creaked loudly with confirmation. I could only agree – I wasn’t fond of his absences either.
