“The room? We aren’t going back to Valhan House?” In fact, we had been walking a while now, with seemingly no direction.
He shook his head. “The beacon point for the scry is in central town. Once you’ve healed and had a good night’s sleep, we’ll make our way back to Lomask.”
I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder again, allowing the relief and surety of him to wash over me as we walked.
The room turned out to be inside a cozy inn, nestled on the outskirts of a lush garden. Kilian paid no mind to the housekeeper at reception as he bustled toward the staircase. He hadn’t so much as broken a sweat carrying me from Aaron’s hut to the inn and up several flights of stairs to the room.
“Do you come here often?” I asked.
“I have a standing reservation for when I attend Greyhaven on business.” He strode into the room and set me down gently on the large bed. The room wasn’t anything to write home about. Just the bed, small cabinet, white sheets and a desk set against the opposite wall beside another open door. I could make out a porcelain sink and the edge of a clawfoot bathtub just beyond. Floating shelves were affixed above the tub, an array of bath salts, soap and sponges lined neatly atop them.
Kilian rummaged in the desk, drawing out a small vial with clear liquid inside. He handed it to me. “Drink this.”
I brought it to my nose, sniffing delicately. There was a slight hint of licorice and rose. I raised it to my lips and drank. The liquid traced a fiery path down my throat and I coughed. Kilian dropped before me on his knees, gently pulling at one of the leaves stuck to my bare leg. It fell away, revealing unmarred skin.
“That’s amazing,” I breathed.
“Midius’ emergency tonic,” he murmured, running his hands up the length of my calf to the next leaf that wrapped around the back of my thigh. He freed it, tossing it to land atop the other. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the elven who found you, but I want to murder him for taking your pants off.”
I huffed a breathy chuckle, his knuckles brushing the sensitive skin behind my knees. The simplest touch from him set me alight. The sight of him, on his knees before me, sent thoughts racing through my mind. But I was also aware that I had spent an hour running through Cosanus, nearly been eaten by a fae, had the skin on my body melt off and regrow, and had not bathed in gods only knew how long.
I placed a hand on his to stop him from pulling off the next leaf that covered my upper thigh. His hand stilled immediately, silver eyes flickering up to meet mine.
“I need a bath.” I smiled softly.
He stood and crossed to the ensuite. I heard water running a second later. He stuck his head out the door to ask, “Lemon or lavender?”
“Lavender.” I peeled the remaining mud leaves off my body and strode to the bathroom. When the last one had left my skin, the link crashed through me with such force I had to grip the edge of the bathtub to steady myself. The steam from the tub wafted up to greet me, and I focused on the swirling tendrils as I breathed through the tidal wave of emotions.
Sharp agony sliced through me, pain that wrenched a jagged arrow right through my heart. No, not pain. Relief. Relief so pure and unfiltered that it hurt.
Kilian’s hands wrapped around my shoulders, and he rubbed soothing circles along my back. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“The mud leaves,” I murmured. “I can feel you again.”
I turned to look up at him, but he only stared back.
“Now you know how grateful I am that you’re alive. These past few days…” He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze going to the ceiling, then back to me. “Lirah, I thought I’d lost you.”
If I hadn’t believed his admission that day we’d trained in the park, the absolute relief pouring from him was confirmation enough.
I wanted to kiss him. But I was also painfully aware of how utterly gross I felt.
“Bathe. We’ll talk after,” he said, sensing my reluctance.
When I emerged from the bathroom sometime later, I found Kilian at the desk, examining the daggers.
He looked up as I entered, wrapped in a thick towel, wet hair hanging down my back. “Feel better?”
“Loads.”
“You should eat something.” He gestured to the bed, where a spread of meat, cheese and bread had been arranged with mini tarts and scones to the side. I reached for a tart – strawberry, judging by the slices artfully arranged atop what looked to be custard.
Halfway to raising it to my lips, I paused. “It’s not elven, is it?”
“Of course not. I didn’t spend days praying you were alive only to allow you to be poisoned by a pastry.” He was still staring intently at me, like he expected me to vanish if he blinked.
I bit into the shortcrust, delighting in the sweet custard and tangy strawberry. “I think this is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”