Page 2 of The Breaker of Stars
The door snicked shut behind me. The air in the room tightened and dragged me from those thoughts.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I grumbled, dumping my pack at the end of the bed and removing my sleeping mat. The fire in the grate ensured the room was warm enough that I wouldn’t need many blankets, despite the chill beating against the window.
I could light our extra mystlight lamps if needed, but it seemed the magic supply in Castani wasn’t abundant. Typical of these smaller villages.
Unfurling the mat, I added, “We’ll leave early and head west to the temple network now that we’re out of the mountains.” There was a cluster of eleven scholarly sites in the center of the territory that Vale was hopeful would hold answers for her thanks to their strong magical concentration.
“Cypherion…”
Spirits, my name on those damn lips. And the breathy way it came out.
“It’s fine,” I snapped, ignoring the tingles spreading along my spine.
Same as I did every time this argument arose. For the first week and a half of the journey, we’d camped beneath the stars in utter silence. Vale had tried to break each moment of quiet. With stories across mystlight lanterns as we cut north through the mountains or conversation about the territory we descended into, she’d tried to break my walls.
Didn’t she break them long ago?
I shook the thought off and continued discarding my cloak and assortment of weapons, ignoring the soft sounds of Vale doing the same as she disappeared into the attached bathing chamber.
The click of the door had me releasing a tight breath.
I was dutiful, because traveling with Vale to Starsearcher Territory to solve whatever was blocking her readings—and decipher if it was tangled in the Angelcurse—was the job assigned to me as Second to the Revered. I needed to make sure she slept, ate, and survived, so I always found a reason not to share a bed and rose before the sun to retrieve breakfast and ready the horses.
Not because I couldn’t stand seeing those wide green eyes first thing in the morning—eyes full of innocence and wistful vulnerability.
Certainly not because of that.
The short days of winter made this journey achingly long, though, and I was more worried with each day that passed.
What was happening in the southern mountains? Ophelia had written in little detail to avoid private information being leaked. Kakias was dead, and something about the spirit of the Engrossian Angel Bant. My muscles tightened at the thought.
The fae had called in a bargain with Ophelia, and they were set to meet the bloodthirsty queen sometime soon—apparently the ruler of Vercuella had not set a specific time.
From the curt tone of her letters, Ophelia was thrilled about that.
Regardless, this war was over—for now. My friends had fought while I was traipsing through mountains and jungles.
My fingers curled on the buckles of my leathers as I undid them. I should have been there.
You could have rejected this mission, I argued with myself as I removed the top layers and tunic and sat before the fire, feet riskily close to the grate. The warmth heated the nerves I’d tried to numb into a stoic monotony these past few weeks. They all threatened to unravel more and more each day.
“I need your help.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.”
Sighing, I braced my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. Breathed in and out slowly to steady myself, to forget those two sentences that haunted me and the flashes of memory that came with them. To focus on my assignment instead.
Ophelia had been threatening to pull rank to send me here; it was clear in her tone, and I’d refused at first.
A part of me, though…
Involuntarily, my gaze drifted toward the bathing chamber.
A brutally defensive and bordering on hostilely possessive part did not want anyone else being Vale’s guard.
It should be me with her.
The door to the bathing room swung open, and she caught me staring like a longing fool. I stifled my reflexive groan just in time.