Page 38 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
He drops one of his hands from my elbow and uses the other to guide me towards the couch as he asks, “What do you do for light at night?”
“I light candles. Is that not what everyone else does?”
“No,” he answers softly, stopping us right in front of the tea table. “In the castle, there are flame gems that go in lamps and chandeliers. The sunlight charges them during the day so that they glow at night. One medium-sized gem would light most of this entire tower.”
“Oh.” A wave of humiliation rushes over me, followed by one of recognition. Ihadheard about flame gems—in some of the books I’d read.I didn’t believe they were real.
“The gems are rare to come by nowadays. They were easier to mine before the war and before the Spell was put in place. They come from the mountains of the Fae Kingdom.” He speaks tentatively, but I can’t help but hear the pity in his voice. I had never really thought about how I might not have the same basic amenities as the castle I’m attached to. I mostly focused on the larger things I wasn’t experiencing. Alexi certainly never mentioned anything about what I may be lacking in this tower. “Do you have something we can put water in?” he asks. I nod my head then realize he probably can’t see it in the dark.
“Yes, I have a bowl.”
“Perfect, can you grab it while I light these candles? I’d prefer to see your face while I work,” he adds, his warm fingers finally leaving my arm.
Despite feeling embarrassed, butterflies of a different nature flutter in my stomach.It’s ridiculous to feel this way.I walk to the sink by the door and fill up a small bowl with water while he works on lighting the pillar candles I have on the tea table. When they are all lit and I take a seat on the couch, I expect the guard to sit next to me. Instead, he gets down on one knee in front of me, taking a cloth and dipping it in the bowl of water I’ve set on the table.
“Let me know if this hurts,” he says softly. He moves to bring the hand not holding the cloth to my face, and I can’t help but flinch on instinct, the memory of another’s touch sending a burst of fear through my body. “I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up in front of him, where I can see them both clearly.
My head dips in embarrassment, and I wish I could explain that it isn’t him. It’s just the culmination of years of fearing anyone other than Alexi. I’ve tried so hard to suppress any sort of reaction when the king has his hands on me, but maybe this guard lowers my own shields more than I realized. More than it makes sense for him to.
“Hey, it’s okay. Do you want to do it yourself? I can just supervise,” he reassures lightly as he holds the cloth out to me, keeping both hands in front of him. I see his head dip as he attempts to pull my eyes back up to look at his face. I should take the cloth; I am more than capable of doing it myself. There’s just a part of me that is begging to let him do it. A selfish, guilt-ridden instinct that wants someone to take care of me for once. “What do you want, My Lady?”
My eyes finally lift to meet his. “You can do it,” I whisper. His eyes hold mine for a moment, their smoky concentration on me overwhelming. I’m warm and breathless, and it makes exactlyzerosense.
“Okay.” He moves slowly, keeping eye contact with me the entire time as he lifts the cloth up to my face again.
“Is it alright if I hold the side of your face to keep you steady?” he asks. I nod, watching him do exactly that, keeping his touch featherlight as his fingers brush against my cheek. The warm cloth touches my lip as he works to clean the blood off. A gentle tension in the air brackets us, not awkward or strained but sweet and tender—kind.
Despite knowing I’ll get caught for it, I can’t stop the way I study him. His features are nearly artistic in their beauty. The distinct thought that he is too good-looking to be a guard runs through my mind for a fleeting moment. My fingers unexplainably twitch with the urge to run through his thick, wavy hair. His dark eyes dart up to my own—his nostrils flaring just slightly—and then they look back down at my mouth. But he doesn’t stop his unhurried touch.
I have to work to keep my breathing even, taking slow, calculated breaths. I get a hint of something I’ve never smelled before. It isn’t floral, but it reminds me of early autumn mornings when the trees around the castle start changing colors. There is a different aroma in the air at that time of year. Was it the trees? Or the grass? Whatever it is, this guard smells similar.
Needing to fill the silence, I ask a question that I’ve been curious about when he moves the cloth to dip it back into the water. “Aren’t you worried about being caught up here?”
His gaze meets mine again as he shrugs. “Not particularly.” He slowly lowers the hand that was cradling my face. The skin there feels cold now in the absence of his touch. “There,” he says, placing the wet cloth down and picking up the dry one to dab at my lip. His brows furrow suddenly as he examines the spot.
“What is it?” I bring my own fingers up to touch my bottom lip, noticing the soreness is already gone.
“There should be a mark where the blood was coming from, but I don’t—”
“Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought,” I interject, pinching my lips together in an attempt to hide them.
I have no doubt that my magic healed the cut made from my tooth already, and I don’t exactly know if I should be in awe of or terrified by the prospect of it working on its own accord so quickly.And without being noticed.He simply nods his head and places the dry cloth back on the table. I try to read him, to see if he is wondering why my lip doesn’t hold a single mark, but he shows no sign of perplexity. In fact, I’m sure I must look more confused than he does.
“How do you know Tienne and Erica?” he asks, sitting down with his knees bent in front of him and feet flat on the floor. The question catches me by surprise.
“They came to the tower and cleaned me up after Alexi died.” There is a significant wobble of my voice when I say his name. I can feel my emotions fighting to get to the surface, trying to break free of those spaces within me where I’ve allowed them to dwell. With a squeeze of my fists and a deep breath, I am able to push it all down again.
The guard observes me from his place on the floor, face nearly unreadable except for the sympathy reflecting in his eyes. Sounding genuine, he says, “I’m sorry,” He doesn’t move to adjust his position or fidget; he just looks at me with understanding. “For what happened to him and for what you’ve had to endure,” he continues.
I can feel the tears welling behind my eyes, fortresses inside me shaking from the acknowledgment of what I’ve been through. I need the conversation to keep moving before I fall apart in front of him. “How do you know them?”
“I guess they have been in charge of putting together your supply boxes for years. Your previous guard—Alexi—was actually pretty adamant that they were the only ones to do it.” His words convey reverence, as if knowing just how much it means to me to hear that Alexi trusted them. “When I took over the position, they made it clear that I was to only come to them with anything you might need. They are intense, but I like them.” He chuckles lightly at the thought of them.
My eyes linger on him, the bewilderment at him being here, talking with me and taking care of me, bubbles up until I can’t help the words that escape. “Why are you here? Why are you being so nice to me?”
A breeze from the open balcony door blows in, causing shadows cast by the candle flames to dance on the stone walls.
“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” he counters, looking genuinely confused.
