Page 53 of A Kiss of Embers
“Where can I hide?” she asked, her gaze darting toward the closed door.
“Bastien’s father’s home. Top floor. Bastien lives there now after Pri burned down his house, but I doubt he’ll darken the door while I’m on bedrest.”
Ashryn gave brief directions, and the moment the door opened, Seraphina squeezed herself out the window shutters and crouched low on a nearby branch outside, making sure her wings camouflaged her from nearby onlookers.
“What in the autumn winds?” Bastien said from within the dwelling, and Ashryn must have been feigning sleep because she said nothing. Moments later, the lights flickered back on, followed by a long, heaving sigh of relief. “Your fever is gone. Thank the stars. I was going to kill a man or two to get you that healing water.”
Several seconds passed of silence, and Seraphina longed to hear his voice again, which was why she couldn’t bring herself to move from her place on the branch. She’d missed him. Far too much.
“You scared me,” he said after the pause. “I thought you were going to kick the bucket.”
No answer.
“Sylvain will be back soon with fresh water. The man hardly knows you, yet he’s still willing to stay by your side when you look like a confused pheasant who walked through the wringer.”
“Ugh,” Ashryn groaned. “I can hear you. Why are you so loud?”
Another sigh of relief. “This is my inside voice. Here, let me check your wound.”
“No!”
“Yes. I’m not just going to sit here and watch you die.”
Seraphina cocked her ears and leaned closer to hear his next words, which were nearly drowned by the leaves flitting in the trees above her head. “Who did this? These aren’t my stitches. What is this orange stuff?”
More silence, but this time she knew Ashryn wasn’t feigning sleep.
“Wait a second.” He gasped. “Oh ho ho. No.No!Where is she?”
“I don’t know who you are referring to.”
“Don’t play coy with me.”
Movement below startled her from her eavesdropping, and she dropped her gaze to find a patrol guard scouring the village. If Seraphina stayed any longer, she might get caught. And this was the last place she wanted to be found.
Giving one last regretful look toward the window, she climbed higher in the tree until she stood on a sturdy branch. She had no idea how Bastien gracefully leaped from tree to tree, but she tried to mimic his movements as she made her way across the village by treetop. When the branches shook, she paused, heart in her throat as she waited to get impaled by a spear or arrow. However, when no such attack came, she continued on her way, but this time used her wings to keep most of her weight off the branches.
Soon, she found the house Ashryn had specified and climbed down several levels of branches until she reached the window. With one last glance around her, only to find a quiet evening, she slipped through the window and closed the shutters behind her, immediately met by silence.
She turned around and took in Bastien’s room in the darkness, not daring to light a sconce to reveal her presence.
The room was…plain. Void of decoration but piled with an array of clothing and weapons on the bed and on the floor beside an armoire. She inspected each weapon and surveyed the sharp points of his rack of spears attached to the wall. She plucked the string of his bow, smiling at the satisfyingtwang. Two quivers of arrows lay on a table, several arrows scattered and two even on the floor.
She picked up the arrows and set them on the table next to the others. During their time together traversing the woods, he hadn’t had a weapon on him for the majority of the time. Yet he still managed to be resourceful. She’d witnessed him with a sword, which she knew wasn’t his weapon of choice, judging by the spears and arrows filling his room. What was he like in his element? If he had a bow and a spear at his fingertips?
Next, she opened the armoire door the rest of the way to find a mess staring back at her. Shirts, trousers, belts, cloaks. Some hung haphazardly off hangers. Others simply lay on the ground at her feet.
“Who are you?” she whispered, running her fingers over the soft fabric of a tunic. “Other than patrol guard?”
But judging by the disaster before her, she highly suspected being in the patrol guardwashis identity. He had nothing else to look forward to in his future and therefore dedicated his life to protecting others.
Her breath hitched as she approached another table in the corner near his bed, this one layered with pieces of small, wooden spikes along with wooden circles.
She picked up one of the circles and inspected it in the darkness, only to inhale sharply. It was a wheel. More specifically, a wheelchair wheel. So, Bastien wasn’t just a patrol guard. He was his father’s caretaker, too.
A chill raked across her skin as a breeze entered through the cracks in the window shutters. She pulled back the bedsheets and slipped inside while igniting the flames within her body to keep herself warm.
And after a few moments? Loneliness engulfed her. Because she knew Bastien was with Ashryn and not with her.
