Page 76 of Somewhere down the Ley Line
Here it comes.Felix sighed.
Luella side eyed him, raising an eyebrow. “When are you going to apologise to her?”
Felix tilted his head at her. “Apologise?”
Luella rolled her eyes. “Yes, Felix. It’s this thing where you tell someone you’re sorry for hurting their feelings. You might want to try it. I think a near week of this abject misery is more than enough, don’t you?”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “What makes you so sure I have anything to apologise for?”
She gave him a long, unimpressed stare. “Whatever you said or did – or did not say or do – it’s eating her alive. And from the way you’ve been skulking around, I’d wager it’s much the same for you.”
“I don’tskulk.”
“You do. It’s pathetic, really.” Luella sighed. “Look, just… She’s got enough to worry about. Don’t make it worse.”
Felix rubbed his face with both hands. He appreciated Luella's reaching out. It was… kind; he supposed. He simply did not want to talk about this with anyone. “I don’t know what to tell you. We’ve had a rough few days because of the rain. I’m sure once everyone is dry and warm, things will be better. Some decent sleep is what we all need.”
Luella pressed her lips together, then nodded. “Fine. You’re not wrong there. Good night, then.” She stood up and returned to the fire.
As she rejoined the others, Felix caught the faint murmur of words exchanged between them. Isolde glanced in his direction. Their eyes locked, and for the first time all week, she did not hurriedly look away. He found himself frozen, unable to tear his gaze from hers. The moment stretched, the tension tightened, until Isolde ultimately turned, leaving Felix staring into the flickering light as Mia strummed a few notes on her lute.
The heaviness in his heart felt unbearable. He missed her – her easy laughter, her endless questions. The way she had kissed him. The way her body had fit so perfectly against his.
Maybe Luella was right, and he should just talk to her. Tell her he still wanted to run away from it all, but if she didn’t, then so be it. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Tomorrow. He’d find a way to talk to her tomorrow.
27
Spellbound quandary
Isolde sat by the fire, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. The flames flickered and popped, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Mia stretched out luxuriously beside her, unconcerned by their meagre surroundings or her rather scandalous state of undress. “I feel like I haven’t been warm in a lifetime,” she sighed.
The hall was cosy despite the hole in the ceiling. Garren had settled himself down near the doorway and was tending to his armour and weapons. Leif sat by the fire near Mia, ladling a second helping of stew into his bowl.
Luella returned with two empty bowls and a displeased expression. Mia caught her eye and raised an eyebrow, to which Luella responded with the slightest shake of her head.
“Anyone want some more?” Leif asked, oblivious to the exchange taking place. “It’s not the tastiest… but it fills you up pretty good.”
Mia giggled. “I’d rather have something else to –”
Luella interrupted her. “Triad above, Mia. Is there ever a time when your mind is not in the gutter? Actually… never mind.” She rolled her eyes.
Leif ate his soup, entirely unbothered. Mia laughed, then went to check on her lute.
Isolde felt Felix’s eyes on her, burning like the sun. She had avoided him for most of the past week, but she wondered if that was only because they had all been too busy being cold and miserable. Now that they were warm and safe, or as safe as they were going to get, it seemed futile and almost immature. Before she could stop herself, she looked up and was instantly drawn in, as if his gaze was magnetic. Her breath caught at the tension in that look, at how impossible it was to break it. Only when Mia cleared her throat and strummed a few notes on her lute, did Isolde manage to look away from him.
“I’ve been working on a song. I think this might work for the chorus,” the bard said.
Leif looked up from his third helping of soup. “Is this for your song about Lady Isolde?”
Mia’s eyes glittered. “In a sense.”
In a sense? Isolde raised her eyebrows. Mia hummed a few notes, then let her fingers dance across the strings. She struck up a slow, wistful tune.
“Oh, his eyes are clouds of thunder
Oh, her sighs could part the sea
