was making. It wasn’t inconceivable that what she had eaten at dinner had been slightly more full of life than she’d feared, which led her to thinking that she might want to sit down sooner rather than later. The bed was the closest thing to her, so she perched on its edge and watched Rùnach stand in the midst of the chamber and turn himself around.
How she was going to live in this proximity with the man and not have him learn what she was—
Nay, there was no fear of that. She had her business to see to with Weger that night, then she would leave and that would be the end of it. Given the condition of her form, she suspected that she should be about that business sooner rather than later.
Rùnach fetched a pair of boots that had been sitting by the door and put them down next to her. “Those look like they might fit.” He lifted his eyebrows briefly. “Generosity from an unexpected direction, I daresay.”
“It makes up for supper.”
He looked at her in surprise, then smiled.
She closed her eyes. It was fortunate that she wasn’t going to be anywhere around the man. She had no interest in finding a man, actually, and she most definitely wouldn’t have wanted the one in front of her if she’d been looking. He was…well, he looked a bit like what she’d always thought Heroes of old might look like: noble; grave; impossibly handsome, scars and all. If she ever wed, she wanted a simple, homely farmer who would think she was pretty. He would obviously have to be almost blind for that to happen, but perhaps that was something to think on later. All she knew was that the man in front of her was far too luxurious for her admittedly very pedestrian self.
“I believe we’re missing a sword.”
Aisling frowned, then nodded slowly. Rùnach had taken his sword from her as they’d left the courtyard, but the one he’d lost that had wound up under Weger’s boot was definitely not in her care.
“I left it in the courtyard,” she said. “I’ll go—”
“Nay,” he said easily, “I’ll go. You should stay where you are.”
She thought she should as well, but unfortunately she had things to see to that didn’t include lingering on any horizontal surfaces. She shook her head. “I must come with you—”
“Nay, you mustn’t,” he said firmly. He shot her a look. “You look as if you’re fair to sicking up your supper.”
“But I need to speak with Weger.”
“Do you?” he asked, looking at her with more curiosity than she was comfortable with. “Why?”
She hadn’t realized just how small a chamber it was, nor how large Rùnach was. He had seemed so much more manageable outside the gates. She drew her hand over her eyes. “Because I must.”
“I wouldn’t badger him today, were I you.”
She didn’t have a choice, but she wasn’t going to say as much. She also wasn’t going to argue with a man who seemed twice her size. She would wait until he had left—as he was doing then—then determine how she was going to get back to her feet and out the door so she might be about her own business.
Her stomach still churned violently, which left her thinking that perhaps a small rest wasn’t an untoward idea. She leaned over carefully until she was lying on the bed—if bed it could be called. It felt more like wooden slats with a blanket draped over them, but since that’s what she was accustomed to, she wasn’t going to complain. Her head was swimming, the chamber was swirling around her, and she thought she might be ill very soon.
Perhaps just a little rest before she gathered herself together, put on her gifted boots, and worked her way to wherever Weger kept himself in the evenings. She had to speak to him that night.
Her life depended on it.
F ive
R ùnach walked through the passageway that seemed to have a chill wind blowing through it just for his pleasure, then forced himself to climb the stairs with a spring in his step instead of dragging his sorry self up them. It
How she was going to live in this proximity with the man and not have him learn what she was—
Nay, there was no fear of that. She had her business to see to with Weger that night, then she would leave and that would be the end of it. Given the condition of her form, she suspected that she should be about that business sooner rather than later.
Rùnach fetched a pair of boots that had been sitting by the door and put them down next to her. “Those look like they might fit.” He lifted his eyebrows briefly. “Generosity from an unexpected direction, I daresay.”
“It makes up for supper.”
He looked at her in surprise, then smiled.
She closed her eyes. It was fortunate that she wasn’t going to be anywhere around the man. She had no interest in finding a man, actually, and she most definitely wouldn’t have wanted the one in front of her if she’d been looking. He was…well, he looked a bit like what she’d always thought Heroes of old might look like: noble; grave; impossibly handsome, scars and all. If she ever wed, she wanted a simple, homely farmer who would think she was pretty. He would obviously have to be almost blind for that to happen, but perhaps that was something to think on later. All she knew was that the man in front of her was far too luxurious for her admittedly very pedestrian self.
“I believe we’re missing a sword.”
Aisling frowned, then nodded slowly. Rùnach had taken his sword from her as they’d left the courtyard, but the one he’d lost that had wound up under Weger’s boot was definitely not in her care.
“I left it in the courtyard,” she said. “I’ll go—”
“Nay,” he said easily, “I’ll go. You should stay where you are.”
She thought she should as well, but unfortunately she had things to see to that didn’t include lingering on any horizontal surfaces. She shook her head. “I must come with you—”
“Nay, you mustn’t,” he said firmly. He shot her a look. “You look as if you’re fair to sicking up your supper.”
“But I need to speak with Weger.”
“Do you?” he asked, looking at her with more curiosity than she was comfortable with. “Why?”
She hadn’t realized just how small a chamber it was, nor how large Rùnach was. He had seemed so much more manageable outside the gates. She drew her hand over her eyes. “Because I must.”
“I wouldn’t badger him today, were I you.”
She didn’t have a choice, but she wasn’t going to say as much. She also wasn’t going to argue with a man who seemed twice her size. She would wait until he had left—as he was doing then—then determine how she was going to get back to her feet and out the door so she might be about her own business.
Her stomach still churned violently, which left her thinking that perhaps a small rest wasn’t an untoward idea. She leaned over carefully until she was lying on the bed—if bed it could be called. It felt more like wooden slats with a blanket draped over them, but since that’s what she was accustomed to, she wasn’t going to complain. Her head was swimming, the chamber was swirling around her, and she thought she might be ill very soon.
Perhaps just a little rest before she gathered herself together, put on her gifted boots, and worked her way to wherever Weger kept himself in the evenings. She had to speak to him that night.
Her life depended on it.
F ive
R ùnach walked through the passageway that seemed to have a chill wind blowing through it just for his pleasure, then forced himself to climb the stairs with a spring in his step instead of dragging his sorry self up them. It
Similar Books
