Page 19 of House of Ashes
Fury flared in me. “Oh, please, don’t apologize because of the charade. I would hate to think you’re sorry only because it makes you look bad. You can put me down now.”
The pain was gnawing at every cell in my body, but it was better than being held by him any longer. He hadn’t stopped looking at me, his grip tightening, but I jabbed an elbow into his chest, wriggling to get out of his grasp.
He set me on another thick carpet that would invite many toe-wriggles when I was no longer dying, and I saw that we were in a large bedroom.
An enormous arched window would overlook the mountains in the day, but for now it was a vast expanse of black glass, reflecting a large, unlit fireplace. A chandelier of crystal drops hung overhead, and the double-sized bed could accommodate several of me comfortably beneath its deep indigo silk canopy.
A horrible thought stopped me in my tracks. “Oh gods, don’t tell me this is your bedroom.”
Especially after today. I needed time to lick my wounds in peace.
Rhylan let out a soft snort. “No. Mine is down the hall. This is yours to use as you see fit, for as long as you need it.”
“Good. I couldn’t stand to share with you.” There was a small heartwood table with two chairs, carved in the elaborate Horde-style patterns of the dragons in the Wildlands to the south, but more importantly, the table was set with fresh food—real, actual fruit—and a pitcher of water. “You can leave me alone now.”
Rhylan hadn’t stepped an inch from the room. He’d crossed his arms as soon as he put me down, but his brow creased in a frown. “You need a healer to look over you.”
I dragged my pathetic carcass to the table, and wasted no time in stripping all the green grapes from a vine. One thing Mistward had taught me was that you didn’t waste time when food was available.
The taste—sweet, tangy, sour, juicy—burst on my tongue and I almost moaned out loud. My fingers shook when I ate the rest, my body clamoring both for the sugar and the sweetness I hadn’t tasted in years, and I grabbed a bunch of purple ones next.
“I’ll be fine after a night of sleep. It hurts now, but it's really not much.”
Rhylan’s frown grew deeper. If he wasn’t careful, that line between his brows would be permanently etched there. “Your hands are burned, Sera. That won’t heal overnight.”
There were even oranges, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, and the citrus smell had me salivating already. I began to peel one with great relish, licking a drop of orange juice that tried to escape down my fingers.
My fingers ached, stung, and shook the entire time. Some things were more important than pain.
“Believe me,” I said, staring at the beauty of the peeled orange in my hands. “I’ve had worse. You learn fast on the Isle, or you die. As for this whole farce, clearly your House is aware of the…ah, trickery?”
Viros had seemed upset, but completely unsurprised at my arrival. Rhylan’s House must be in on this, or it would only be a matter of time before someone opened their mouths about this deception.
The Houses would be howling for our blood the moment our ‘mate bond’ was revealed as a lie.
“They’re aware, but that's beside the point. We need to practice again starting tomorrow, and you’re not going to be in any shape for it unless someone looks over you.”
I peeled a single segment of the orange away from the whole, and bit into it. I couldn’t stop myself from demolishing the rest.
Savoring would come when I was no longer starved, I supposed.
I poured a glass of water next, draining it quickly.
“Good. That they know, I mean. I don’t want them to be shocked when I tell you how much I hate you. Send up the healer, but for gods’ sakes, Rhylan, go away and leave me alone tonight.”
I just wanted to eat until I felt like my stomach was going to burst, then sleep in that soft, warm bed.
This whole ridiculous plan would look better on the other side of tomorrow, and the less I saw of Rhylan’s face until then, the better.
He still hesitated. I wanted to throw an apple at his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to waste good fruit like that.
Those brilliant blue eyes watched as I fumbled my way through cutting the apple with a sharp silver knife. His frown had become a scowl.
I flapped my useless fingers at him. “Good night.”
“I am truly sorry for this, Sera. Not just for what people would believe.” He stared at me, as though willing me to understand some secret thing hidden between his words, but I had no compunctions against throwing the knife.
He left, drawing the door shut behind him before I could fling it.