Page 20 of Godsbane
Mae dips her head in a curt bow and I instinctively scan my eyes to see if anyone around her has noticed. The patrons, as far as I can see, are still thankfully engrossed in their cups. From the corner of my eye, I can see Murphy quietly surveying the filled tables surrounding us. His lips move silently as if counting the number of patrons filling the tiny space.
Mae’s eyes narrow as she studies me and the captain from head to toe before shaking her head with a sigh, clearly disappointed by whatever she was hoping to find.
“I wish I could offer better accommodations for m’lady, but the storm tends to draw travelers in who would normally stay in the woods.”
It’s my turn to be disappointed. Pain picks the back of my eyes and I know they’ll be no beating the princess allegations if I cry over not having a dry bed beside a warm fire. Today has left me near exhaustion and I credit that for my lapse in decorum.
Before I can reply, the matronly woman extracts a single brass key from her apron pocket. “I’ve only got one room and it’s nowhere near what you’re used to, I’m afraid.”
My hand is on the key before the weight of her words settle in. This has to be a joke.
The realization must have hit Murphy at the same time because he’s now staring at Mae as if she has three heads. He opens his mouth to protest but she lifts a single, wrinkled hand to silence him.
“I wouldn’t offer this to anyone else, but since you’re escorting the heir, I will make an exception.” She pauses, seemingly only for dramatic effect. When she’s finally satisfied that she has the captain’s full attention, she continues. “There’s a cot in the broom closet down the hall. It’s not a guest room so I won’t be hearing any complaints about the condition, but if all you’re after is a dry place to sleep, I can offer it to ya … for a discounted rate.”
Murphy reaches into his pocket and places two silvers and a copper on the counter. Mae raises her eyebrows and waits until he slides three more coppers her way before she places the key in his hand and motions towards the stairs that run up the back wall of the room.
“No fireplace in the closet, I presume?” he asks gruffly.
Mikel deposits two steaming mugs of mead on the counter in front of us. “Just rats,” the young man laughs, earning a sharp look from the innkeep. “But maybe you can move the cot somewhere warm?”
“That’s enough meddling. Go stir that stew before it sticks to the bottom.” Mae swats at the man as she shuffles him back through the half door and into the kitchen.
“Come on,” Murphy grunts as he shoulders both bags and heads for the staircase.
I grab both mugs of warm mead, the delicious scent of cinnamon filling my nose, and follow him.
There are only two floors—the bottom serving as a tavern and the upper filled with guest rooms. A small “B” adorns the firstdoor at the top of the stairs, indicating the bathing chamber. We walk along the old embroidered runner that spans the hallway floors, the carpet threadbare from years of guests walking along its center. It’s drafty up here and I pull the steaming mugs closer to my chest in an attempt to absorb some of their warmth.
Small brass numbers top each door and Murphy halts abruptly at number six, its match engraved on the key. At the end of the hallway, a slim door sits slightly ajar—the broom closet, I presume.
The captain shivers and I suddenly feel guilty that I’ll be the only one snug and warm by a fire tonight.
I exchange the mug in my hand for the bag on the captain’s shoulder. There’s a hard expression on his face and the words spill out before I can think better of it. “You can put your cot in front of my fireplace, assuming there’s room.”
His gray eyes smolder as he takes an unexpected step towards me and that’s when I feel it again—that tiny spark of magic, the bite of electricity in the air before a lightning strike. I know with certainty that I can’t give this fire oxygen or the flames will surely consume me.
“Do you offer because you feel sorry for me?”
I don’t answer him. Not because I’m playing coy, but because there are too many questions warring within me at the moment.
Do I want him to suffer in the cold while I’m warm?Of course not. I’m not cruel.
Is there a war happening between my head and my magic right now?Yes.
Am I strong enough to fight it?Not in this state.
Thankfully, my silence is answer enough.
He steps back quickly and his voice is nearly a growl when he responds. “Your pity is misplaced,princess.”
“Let your pride keep you from a fire, then. It makes no difference to me.”
“Liar.” He practically spits the word at me.
“I didn’t invite you into my bed,Captain,” I mimic his tone. “I don’t even know why I offered in the first place. You won’t even tell me your name.”
The captain steps into my space, forcing me to take a step backwards to avoid touching him. He’s intimidating but I stiffen my spine, unwilling to reveal an ounce of the strange weakness that I feel when we touch. He takes another step and I follow suit. He doesn’t stop his forward assault until my back hits the door behind me.
