Page 13 of Sky of Thorns

“He is steady now,” I say to Aramis, who has not stopped studying me since the moment I started tending to Edmund’s wound. He must truly care for the boy.

He closes the distance between us and assesses my work. Edmund is still unconscious but has now a peaceful expression on his face, almost as if he is having the best sleep of his life. Aramis exhales deeply, and I can see his shoulders drop. To my surprise, he reaches down and offers me a hand. I hesitate at his gesture, but I am stiff from kneeling, so I warily place my hand in his and let him help me to my feet.

“But he needs to rest,” I add, standing so close to him I can see his blue eyes darken like storm clouds on the verge of breaking, my hand still resting in his. “Edmund is in no condition to ride.” His body heat radiates off him at our proximity, the smell of bergamot and cedarwood mixed with wood smoke filling my senses. I exhale slowly, unable to break eye contact.

A bark of laughter breaks the moment, and I quickly pull myself away from Aramis’s grip. The other guards are passing around a flask of what I presume is more Dark Starlight.

“Fine,” he grunts, “we could all need some rest, anyway.” He sets off to join the guards eating by the fire. After a couple of steps however, he comes to a stop. His head turns slightly in my direction and I can see his body tense.

“Thank you for saving his life, Sybil,” he whispers, without meeting my eyes.

Sybil

AfterEdmundconsumessomemeat and two cups of tea, I finally let him drift off into a fitful sleep. The anesthetic had worn off after a while and the poor boy was starving. He will need to wake up and eat more in a couple of hours, but for now, he manages to keep down what I offer. As I uncurl my legs from underneath me, the tension in my body relaxes, and I watch him slowly take easier breaths, a tinge of color coming back to his skin. The guards have switched twice to keep watch and make sure I don’t run off. Standing up, I scoop the two empty bowls from the ground. Although his condition is improving, we aren’t out of the woods yet. I stand in a daze, stretching my limbs after sitting for so long.

Delirious from my exhaustion, I find myself laughing at the absolute mess of this situation. If someone had told me a week ago that I would be kidnapped on charges of rebellious activities, dragged halfway to another kingdom, not to mention tending to one of my captor’s wounds, I would have said it sounded a lot like one of my adventure books. Maybe I am just dreaming, and this is all a book induced hallucination. I glance down, realizing that I am still holding the empty bowls I intended to clean. Stifling a yawn with my hand, I blink my dry and gritty eyes; the forest blurring around me. I take a few hesitant steps, before I tip with exhaustion. The forest floor flies up to meet me as the bowl falls from my hand. Squeezing my eyes shut, I brace for the impact of the hard ground.

But the hard impact never comes. A soothing warmth of air cushions me and propels me up, my back firmly pressed against the trunk of a tree. The rough bark bites into the delicate skin of my back as the wind caresses the exposed skin at my arms, neck, and face. Aramis steps towards me, bracing his arms on either side of my head.

“Must you always be in need of rescue?” he whispers, a feverish gleam in his eye.

This close, I can see the muscles of his biceps straining against the fabric of his sleeves. The slight wave of blond hair falls in his face as he gazes down at me. Why must he be so terribly handsome? It would be easier to hate him.

“When I was tasked to obtain a leader of the shifter rebels, I never imagined you would be so–” He lifts a hand towards my face before letting it fall clenched to his side.

“What?” I ask, watching him war with constraint. His blue eyes, as light as the sky, are commanding and tentative at the same time. With the press of his strong arms caging me into the tree, I find myself getting lost.

“You.” His gaze falls to my lips, causing me to raise my brow in question. A gentle breeze caresses my cheek, ruffling the strands of my hair.

“Me?” I raise an eyebrow at him as he slumps to sit at my feet, leaning against the tree. I tentatively lower myself to the ground next to him then stifle a yawn.

“You’re exhausted,” he says with a sigh turning his head, studying me. I have to look a mess; hair disheveled, dark circles under my eyes. Not exactly your picturesque beauty of the heroines from my stories. “Go rest before we resume our journey tomorrow. You’ve been tending Edmund for hours.”

I bristle at his demand. “I cannot rest. My priority at this moment is making sure he's stable.”

“How can you care about him so much if you don’t even know him,” Aramis slurs as he leans closer, his shoulder pressing into mine.

“I am a healer,” I say, pausing to brush invisible lint off my skirt. “Or at least I hope to be one day. Saving people’s lives is a healer’s duty, no matter whose life it is. At this rate, I want to prove to all of you that you have the wrong person.” Aramis turns away from me back towards the camp where, through the trees, I can see Edmund’s body curled up beside the fire, and choose to move away from those thoughts. “Seems like you know Edmund pretty well…”

Aramis laughs, his gaze is distant recalling a memory from long ago. “I thought I’d never meet someone more obstinate than me, until I met Edmund. When the boy was ten he used to follow me around the capital like a shadow, begging me to teach him how to use a sword. He used to tell everyone he would become the greatest swordsman Shadowvale had ever seen, after me of course.” He chuckles and I roll my eyes at the absurdity of his ego but warmth spreads in my core at the sweet memory.. “When he turned sixteen, merely four seasons ago, I caved in and agreed on letting him join the King’s guard, promising that I would keep him under my wing, and now look at him.”

Silence falls between us as we both stare at the male. “How did you and Edmund meet?”

Aramis’ body tenses beside me. I whip my head back towards him. What did I say?

“Nero and I were out to one of the cities rumored to have been attacked by shifters, but we arrived too late. The shifters had attacked leaving half the town dead or injured. He was only six, clinging to his dead mother's blouse begging her to wake up. Telling her as tears streamed down her face that he hid like she told him and that the monsters were gone and she could wake up now and stop pretending,” he says through gritted teeth.

My heart beats wildly in my chest at the image unfolding in my mind. For a child to lose their parents at such a young age in such a tragic way… An attack like that wasn’t an act of rebellion, but pure evil.

“So, I couldn’t leave him orphaned to fend for himself in a half-burnt village. I took Edmund back to the capital with me and ensured he had everything he needed growing up. I promised him I would avenge his parents and kill the shifter bastards who did this and make sure no shifter would harm another child in my kingdom.”

“Right because we’re all bastards in your eyes, I am such a fool…” I move to stand up but Aramis grabs my arm, pulling me. I lose my balance, nearly falling into his lap, our faces mere inches apart. My breath hitches as he drops his gaze to my lips.

“Sybil,” he whispers, his voice husky.

A whiff of alcohol on his breath takes me out of my haze, and is a splash of cold water on my face. I lift my hands against his chest and push to my feet.

“Aramis, you are drunk,” I scoff, completely unimpressed. “Remember who you’re talking to? Your prisoner? I am one of theshifter bastards?” I spit out, hurt filling my voice. “Or did you hit your head and forget?” I cast my eyes to the ground as the complicated emotions of our current position war in my stomach.

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