Page 45 of White Horse Black Nights

Chapter15

Sabine

Someone knocks on the door.

I jerk back from the open window with a gasp. The little nut-brown swift flits from the windowsill to a nearby branch, my message fastened around its leg with a thread pulled from the curtains. To write the note, I had to make do with a scrap of torn wallpaper, and a stick from the cold fireplace with a burned charcoal end. The kindly swift agreed to deliver my message to Adan and focused intently on my directions. I think it understood. I hope it did.

Go, little friend. Hurry!I urge it with a wave of my fingers. I swing the window shut as the person in the hall knocks harder.

“Sabine, it’s me,” Basten barks. “The water for your bath is here.” He pauses. “Are you decent?”

Decent? Have I ever been decent on this ride?Um, no, Basten, I’m naked. Like always.

I tug the bedsheet off and wrap it around me like a shroud. “Yes.”

He unlocks the door to admit a pair of young men who strain under heavy cauldrons of hot water. Basten glares at them as they head toward the copper tub, making it clear he wants them to keep their eyes on the boiling water, not me. They empty their buckets and quickly shuffle out under Basten’s close scrutiny.

Basten closes the door behind them. Steam rises from the copper tub. The scent of lavender soap permeates the air.

He drops a bundle of clothes on the bed.

“What’s that?” I ask, curious.

“A dress. Undergarments. For you.” At my confused look, he adds nonchalantly, “I thought you must be tired of wearing my shirt, given how often you tell me I smell.”

He bought me clothes? Itisappealing to dress in real clothes—clean clothes!—even though I’ll only have the chance to wear them for a single day. Here, in this room. I can’t go even as far as the common room in a dress, or Rian will know I broke his rules. Still, I’m touched that Basten thought to grant me this kindness.

I wind a curl of my hair around my finger and say quietly, “Thank you.”

Basten shrugs it off.

Petting my hair, I eye the hot water enticingly.

He picks up on the hint. “Go ahead, while it’s hot. I’ll keep my back turned while you bathe.”

He tromps to the window, thrusting open the pane I so recently shut, and pretends to take great interest in the goings on of Blackwater.

I sneak glances at his back as I shed the sheet and slip into the bathwater. If he’d returned only a minute sooner, he would have caught me sending the swift to deliver my message to Adan. If he’d found me out, would he have told Lord Rian? Would he have punished me?

Given my meager supplies, my message to Adan was necessarily brief:

Call off the plan. I’m sorry. I love you.

The last line was a stretch, but I panicked and added it out of guilt. Whether I’m in love with Adan or not, it’s simply too risky to involve him in any escape plans. Basten has proven with terrifying certainty what he’s capable of, and I can only guess what other tracking resources my future husband has at his disposal. If I were caught with Adan, they’d likely hang him for seducing a lord’s betrothed.

I climb into the tub and recline back. As the hot water unwinds my aching thighs, and washes away days of grime from the road, my worries slowly unlock.

Basten was right about one thing: I reallydon’tknow Adan. What I thought was love at first . . . now I’m not certain. Maybe it was just a handsome face and a friendly smile. Maybe it was Adan’s promise to take me away from everything. Maybe I was just desperate for a tender touch—any touch—after so much neglect.

I have to admit that a small part of me is, shamefully, glad to call off the escape with Adan. I crave freedom more than anything, but I’m not certain anymore that I want it with a boy who is essentially a stranger.

Besides . . . I can’t stop thinking about the kiss with Basten. If I truly loved Adan, wouldn’t I have thought of him when I let Basten put his lips all over me? Wouldn’t I feel more guilty?

Because I don’t feel guilty at all.

I scrub the scented soap bar over my skin, washing away layers of dirt, and study Basten’s muscular shoulders straining his shirt.

That kiss. By the Immortals, thatkiss.

---