It’s nothing special or fancy. There’s a bed large enough for Marigold and me to share and a table with a candle on it. The already-lit flame burns lazily inside its pebbled glass enclosure.
Irving walks the room, and when he is satisfied it is safe, he steps back into the hall. “I’m in the room acrossthe way if you should need me. I’m starving, so I’m going to eat, but I’ll retire shortly.”
I nod and close the door.
Why is everything such a mess? Life was supposed to be simple once I ran away with Dimitri. We would marry, travel the world, and…
What exactly was living with Dimitri going to be like? What was I going to do? I’m not a performer—I have no idea how to entertain people.
We would have been together, though. That’s what mattered.
I waketo a light knocking at the door. I must have dozed off, though I don’t think I’ve been asleep very long. Marigold hasn’t even retired yet.
In fact, that’s probably Marigold now. But why wouldn’t Irving have given her the key?
The floor is cold against my bare feet, and I shiver as I cross the tiny room. I flip the iron lock and open the door.
“You should have checked to see who it was before you opened it,” Galinor scolds.
I’m about to snap at him, but my attention shifts to the plate of food he carries, and I go mute.
Galinor runs one hand through his hair and offers the plate with his other. “I thought you might be hungry.”
He sounds as if he’s questioning his decision to bring me the food, so I accept the plate before he turns away. I then gesture for him to follow me into the room.
Before I even reach the little table, I pluck a square of yam from the plate and stick it into my mouth.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Noticing he’s not behind me, I set the plate down and turn back. “Galinor?”
I find him lingering in the doorway, standing in an awkward way that makes me want to laugh.
“You aren’t going to make me eat alone, are you?” I tease him.
He glances down the hall, first one way and then the next, and then he relaxes his crossed arms and steps into the room. “I’ll keep the door open so no one thinks…” He clenches his jaw and then, not choosing to finish his thought, sits in the chair across from me.
I flush and look down at the plate. “Thank you for bringing this up.”
If he hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have noticed how alone we are. Now it’s all I can think about. I glance at him. The flame from the candle casts shadows on his face, and his eye looks even worse in the dim light.
“Did the tavern maid tend your eye?”
I wish I hadn’t asked—I really don’t want to know.
Galinor shakes his head. “No.”
Does he seem irritated that I mentioned her?
“She’s pretty,” I blurt out.
What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?
I tear a piece of meat. It feels strange to eat with him watching me, and I’m very aware of his gaze.
“Why do you say that?” he asks.
I cringe inwardly and then shrug. “She seemed to like you.”
Why can’t I stop talking?
