“My mother and sister will be glad to finally meet you.”
He took my hand and led me back down the hill, meek as a lost lamb.
CHAPTERFIVE
Lorcan’s house was as small as he promised. The kind of cottage an elderly spinster might occupy, or a bachelor planning to move up in the world. Large enough for two people at the most, as currently configured.
A single bed sat in the airy loft at the top of the stairs, overlooking an open room below, which was dominated by a dining table and a fireplace flanked by mismatched chairs. He indicated that the kitchen was beneath the loft, and when I peeked in, I saw an ancient wood stove, a cracked ceramic sink and gleaming new wood counters. He’s done work on this place.
The privy was located outside—inconvenient, but common in older homes in this part of Auralia. Beneath the stairs to the loft was a small nook with a rough wooden trunk.
The only decorations are sharp and shiny. Blades. Bows. There are even a few guns in the mix, though they were placed for convenient reach rather than displayed with pride. I found an empty hook and added Raina’s dagger to the collection. It seemed to fit there. A memory for later. I didn’t need it anymore, and it was never really mine.
My reflection in the blade showed my lips pulled up at the corners in a sad smile. He gave me a knife; I gave him one in return. According to Raina’s tradition, that makes us betrothed.
Medals, carefully framed, from his athletic achievements. Reminders from another life. It seems so remote now. Before he became my knight, he was regularly featured in the global press. I know it was cover for his spying, but it’s undeniable that Lorcan could have chased stardom abroad. Instead, he stayed to protect a princess who didn’t appreciate his efforts.
Looking at these reminders of a lifetime ago was humbling. I can see what he gave up to serve me. I’m disappointed in myself to remember how little I deserved it.
How little I deserve it now.
“You can take the bed,” Lorcan offered, carrying my small pack up the stairs for me as though I were incapable of doing so myself. I’m fatigued after the day-long ride. I haven’t fully recovered from our climb to the Sun Temple. Nor from the ordeal before that.
I need rest. Ostensibly, that is the purpose of my stay here. Enforced idleness.
“Where will you sleep?”
I couldn’t see his reaction to my perfectly reasonable question because he was up in the loft. I don’t know if he was hoping we would magically fall into bed together, but if so, I needed to head him off at the pass. This is already too much physical closeness. If I had known there wasn’t even a bedroom door, I wouldn’t have come. I’m sure that’s why he didn’t warn me. Conniving man.
The ride here from Covari Village was quiet. We encountered few other travelers, no attackers, and Lorcan has never been one to chat idly. I lost myself in thought for most of the journey, mostly ruminating on the trip we took to the Sky Shrine. Upon crossing the bridge into Tenáho, a young boy shouted to his friends, “It’s Lorcan, with the princess!” and ran to spread the news. You’d hardly know there had been a war. The children chased us until Lorcan dismounted and produced a bag of honey candies. This, at least, had not changed.
My smile faltered. Lorcan will, one day, want children. If he doesn’t have a few already.
Coming here was a mistake.
“I’ll make a pallet on the boxes under the stairs,” he called down.
It’s the only logical place to put a bed, unless you were to move the table up against the wall in the main room, or put a bedroll on the floor of the loft, which defeats the point of creating privacy in a small space.
“You won’t fit. You’re too tall.”
Lorcan chuckled. “That is not often said about me.”
I gave a long exhale. He isn’t short. Taller than me, and easily a stone heavier than when I last saw him before the war. All of his newly-acquired growth is pure muscle. I would barely fit within the scant space.
“It’s your house. I’ll sleep beneath the stairs.”
Lorcan’s footfalls were light and quick as he came back down from the loft, took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tipped my face up to meet his eyes. It’s a shock to look at him now. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been avoiding it.
“No princess sleeps beneath the stairs in my house.”
I jerked my chin away. He let me go.
“I’ve slept worse places.”
An echo of what he used to say, in Scotland. We both know that now, I am the one who has slept in the worst place imaginable.
“No guest, for that matter,” he responded lightly, dispersing the sudden tension. “Go ahead and settle in. You can put your belongings anywhere there’s space. I don’t mind if you move things around to make room.”
