He was already signaling a nearby dragoon. “It’s the largest, already heated. Food will be waiting, and a bath for you, mother.”
“That’s not necessary,” I started, but I was touched by his thoughtfulness, despite my irritation at being treated like an elder.It's for Daphne, I soothed myself.
“It is,” he cut me off, his tone final. “She needs rest. You, too.”
I hesitated, jaw tight. But he was right. Daphne’s breathing was still a bit labored. Her steps uneven. And gods help me, I wanted a moment with her that didn’t involve blood or fear or ancient ruins whispering curses beneath our feet.
“Fine,” I muttered. “But at first light, we ride.”
Myccael clapped me once on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Daphne leaned her head briefly against my arm, and for one blessed breath, I allowed myself to believe there might still be time. That this gift I’d been given—however fleeting—could still be protected.
Even if the ghosts of the Zuten were waking beneath our feet.
The bath was heavenly. If I had ever needed one more, I didn't remember, and for the first time since awakening, I was actually thankful that I didn't. The hot water loosened my tense muscles, took away the aches from sitting for hours on a nicta, and all the stress of the day and night.
Myccael was right. Even though Mallack's tent the previous night had been luxurious, his was still bigger. The bed was already luring me towards its cozy-looking furs. Absolute tiredness overcame me, and I closed my eyes for just a few minutes.
I must have dozed off, because Mallack's voice startled me back, and I instantly realized the water had grown cold. "You're still in the tub? The water must be freezing by now."
He strode forward, and I let out a small yelp, covering my breasts. Keeping his eyes averted, he only reached for a towel and held it out, his gaze set toward the corner.
My soul melted for him. It was easy to read on his features how much he missed his mate, me, but he was determined to be my knight. He kept the towel extended with steady hands and a clenched jaw, clearly trying very hard to give me dignity even as I sat half-submerged, goosebumps rising on my skin.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice cracked slightly from the long, strange day. Gathering my courage, I rose, straight into the towel.
Still without looking, he said softly, “I brought food.”
I quickly wrapped myself and dried off as fast as I could. By the time I stepped into the main part of the tent, bundled in one of the oversized linen tunics left out by unseen hands, Mallack was already laying out a small spread on a side table: two bowls of stew, thick bread, slices of soft cheese, and a carafe of something that smelled floral and warm.
He glanced up when I entered and smiled, brief but genuine. That smile undid something inside me.
“You didn’t have to,” I said, taking a seat on one of the cushions strewn across the thick rug.
“I wanted to,” he replied simply. “You’ve barely eaten today. And… I thought you might want to talk.”
I did. Gods, I did. But not about what everyone else wanted me to talk about. Not about the magrail, or the Zuten, and most certainly not Grandyr’s impossible gift of resurrection. Something else.
“Thank you,” I said again, softer this time.
We sat across from each other, knees nearly touching, and for a while, we just ate. The food was delicious, spiced and hearty,warming me from the inside. I watched him as he tore his bread, dipping it in the stew, the flicker of firelight catching the faint shimmer of his scales. He was so effortlessly powerful, so comfortable in silence, and yet he filled every breath of space around me.
Eventually, I broke the quiet. “What did you dream about? When you were young?”
He blinked. That clearly wasn’t the question he was expecting. But a slow smile curved across his face.
“Dreams,” he murmured. “I used to want to build ships. Not warships. Trading vessels. Big, beautiful things that skimmed the clouds like birds.”
“Really?” I smiled. “That’s… unexpected.”
“I liked the idea of building something that didn’t destroy,” he said. “And of leaving. Of going somewhere new.”
"And did you? Ever go somewhere new?"
He shook his head, "Not beyond the Fourteen Planets. Duty kept me,” he said with a faint shrug. “But I don’t regret it. Just every now and then… I still dream of it. Of taking a ship and seeing what's beyond.”
He looked at me then, really looked, and the air changed.
