Page 16 of Between Soul and Vessel
“Actually, priestess,” she said, calling after me.
I paused mid-step and turned toward her. “Yes?” I asked, a mustard seed of hope remaining.
“Would you tell Shadow that I will need those swords finished by next week?” she asked.
“Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll see to it now,” I said, bowing once more before I took my leave.
When I stepped into the hallway, the doors swung shut behind me, reminding me I still had not earned the trust of the empress. However, considering I was the daughter of a traitor, that was to be expected. It just meant I needed to work harder to convince her otherwise.
And then, when the empress’s back was exposed, I’d get revenge for my mother.
I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I’d find a way.
Shadow
“Fuck,” I growled, tossing my hammer into the wood bucket sitting beside my anvil. Grabbing the red-hot blade, I shoved it back into the ravenous forge. Along with it, some of the meat seared off from my right hand.
The smell of burning flesh permeated the air.
I rolled my hand over, observing the damage I’d inflicted. Bits of iron bone peeked through burnt skin. Tipping my masked face to the ceiling, I rolled my neck back, stretching out my taut muscles. A breath of air passed my lips as I leaned into the sweet sensation of pain.
It was one of very few things in this world that felt good.
“Shadow, your hand,” a worried voice said, followed by rushed footsteps. “Let me see it.” Small, feminine hands, half the size of my own, cradled mine—her skin so soft. Sodelicate.
“It’s fine,” I answered, although I didn’t pull my hand away, quite liking the feel of her touch.
Avriel shot me an incredulous look. “It does not look fine.” Letting my hand go, she reached for the small cloth pouch hanging on her belt, right beside the rabbit’s foot I had given her for her birthday last year. She loosened the tie and stuck two fingers and a thumb inside.
I leaned in, pretending to get a better look at what she was doing—although I already knew. We’d done this countless times before. In truth, I just wanted to be closer to her. I breathed her in, savoring her citrusy, herbal scent. Lemons, bergamot, and rosemary.
If this world was a free one where I could openly speak my mind, and someone was to ask me what my favorite scent was, I’d point to her. If they asked me what my favorite color was, I’d say her eyes. Favorite anything? Easy answer—her.
But this world was not free, nor was I, so I could never tell anyone that.
Not even her, despite how badly I longed to.
“Hold still,” she scolded me as she sprinkled the silver powder over my injuries.
Upon contact, it began to melt. Then, it began to bubble, emitting small hisses before it disappeared. Small threads, the color of my tanned skin, began to shoot from one side of the wound to the other, stitching the burns back together, until my hand was as good as new. The process was painless, no more than a tickle.
She looked up at me and asked, “Better?”
“Better,” I said, stealing a glance at her heart-shaped mouth. I bet she had the softest lips.
“Good.” She flashed me a smile, the small gap between her teeth ever present. When I was a young, foolish boy, I would tease her about it, but now, I found it endearing.
I smiled back at her, the gesture hidden beneath my mask.
Our gazes caught, hooked for a moment too long before we both forced ourselves to look away. I turned to my forge while she tied her pouch shut.
Holding on to the seesaw-style lever, I pressed down and then brought it back up, repeating the motion. This filled one of the bellows with air while the other emptied, feeding oxygen to the fire. The flames grew brighter, feasting on what it was being given. With each push and each pull, the heat from the forge wafted toward me, lapping at my skin, causing beads of sweat to brim. That was precisely why I didn’t bother wearing a shirt when I was blacksmithing. By the time I was done, it would be drenched in sweat. My pants already felt bad enough, glued to me like a second skin, but considering the door to this room seemed to constantly have people coming and going, I wasn’t about to walk around ass naked.
Avriel joined me, taking up residence at my side. How I wished I could extend the space to her forever, hand her the deed to it and put a ring on her finger, just like people used to do centuries ago.
But that was a wish that could never be, and I damnwell knew it.
She inspected the lever, her attention drifting to the bellows, then, “Don’t you find this a bit . . . archaic?”
