He’s right. We both know it.
I decide this day has been exhausting enough. So, I prepare Edvard for bed. He has been awake for brief periods, but yawns as I change his cloth. When I return him to his basket, he makes sucking sounds, drawing my attention to him sleeping with his thumb shoved in his mouth. He doesn’t know how drastically different his life is now.
Earlier, it was evident that Praxis was in no condition to care for the infant after sending his wife to the afterlife. Leah had made it clear she didn’t think she was the nurturing sort. I could tell Everly really wanted to watch over the baby, but she said she would feel more comfortable if he stayed with me in case he wasn’t fully healed.
That left me with the tiny baby. Not that I mind.
I bring my blankets closer and fall asleep thinking about all the lives lost in Tarra. And I think about my husband.
The sun blazes against my skin as I focus on the rider. I clench my fingers around the throwing knife, willing it to stay in my grasp.
Please, I beg the gods.
They don’t care. They never care.
Horror seizes me as the knife flies from my hands and slams into Gabriel.
“Gabriel!” I scream over and over again.
“Sol, wake up.”
I shove against the hand on my arm. It will pull me further into the nightmare.
The hand returns, the touch light, comforting. “Sol, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up.”
An exhale escapes me as I open my gritty eyes.
Hector sits on the edge of the mattress, his face cast in shadows. Tenderly, he pushes loose strands from my cheeks. “Are you all right?”
I shake my head and let out a shuddering breath as the blinding sun leaps into my vision again.
Hector traces my jawline, his touch soothing the frayed edges of my fear. “You kept calling for...” he exhales, “…Gabriel.”
Needing that grounding, that familiarity, I reach for Hector’s hand and hold it against my face. “I’m sorry.”
What else could I say? I do long for who I believed Hector was. And I grieve the loss of that bond, that connection, that life I was building with Gabriel.
“Don’t be sorry.” Hector continues tracing my jaw. “I know you miss the way things were.”
I swallow and sink against my pillow.
“Shall I stay with you?” Tentativeness borders his words, as if he fears me rejecting him.
At first, I think of grabbing the blanket, pulling it close, and trying to forget these haunting nightmares. Then I recall those nights when I slept in Hector’s arms. I was warm and safe.
“Please stay,” I whisper.
The mattress dips as he moves to lie on his side next to me. I shift closer and allow him to pull me against him. His hand finds the small of my back, and I sink even closer to him. Needing his warmth. His comfort. His safety.
Maybe it’s absurd to see Hector as safety. After all, he intends to use me. But in this moment, I don’t want to think about any of that. I just want to feel the heat. Draw from the familiarity.
So, I do.
ChapterNineteen
The scout returns the following morning with a wet nurse in tow, a young woman with black hair, olive skin, and lively brown eyes. It takes everything in me to hand Edvard to her and stay quiet as she walks to a nearby tent.
I settle against a rock and lay my palms flat against my legs. Mildred sits opposite of me, the fire between us. Every once in a while, she nods to the space next to her and scolds Annaleigh for not paying attention.
