Sword's Call by C. A. Szarek Page B

distraction.
    Cera hadn’t acknowledged his dismissal. She disappeared into the cabin.
    “Here you go.” She handed over a large mug of iced spice tea. “It’s not water, though. Avery fixed it, it’s my favorite.”
    “Then you drink it.” Jorrin shook his head and attempted to hand the mug back to her.
    She put her palm up. “No, it’s for you. C’mon, Avery would be upset.”
    He studied her for a moment, stomach fluttering.
    She was reaching out to him?
    Maybe normal wasn’t so bad if she’d talk to him, spend time with him.
    Had she made the drink?
    Cera was being awfully insistent with him.
    “Well, Lady Ryhan, you shouldn’t be serving me, a lowly half-elf. It should be the other way around.”
    Making a face, she stuck her tongue out.
    He laughed. “That was very un-lady like.”
    “It was?” She giggled. “Then I shan’t do it again.” Her tone and manner were haughty. “Well?”
    “Well what?”
    “Weren’t you going to serve me?” She bowed gracefully.
    Somehow, it looked wrong since she was clad in breeches, and not the long skirts a lady would normally wear, but then again, she was not like any highborn lady Jorrin had ever met.
    He chuckled and gestured to a log big enough for a seat, not far from the chopping block. “By all means, my lady, have a seat.”
    She sat on the log, overacting, but still graceful. “Not the best accommodations for a lady of my rank, I have to mention,” she said in the same haughty tone, and then looked away from him.
    Their eyes met after a moment and they both laughed.
    His heart ached. Jorrin wanted more with her. He pushed the thoughts away, clinging to what he had with her at the moment.
    Not nearly enough, but it would have to do.
    For now.
    But the banter was a welcome distraction from the seriousness of their situation.
    Before he’d met Cera, life held a simplicity he’d been missing lately. On the other hand, his purpose had been lacking.
    Which did he prefer more?
    No purpose at all, or one that affected the very lives of people—people he was starting to care a great deal about?
    Nothing he’d asked for, but a role that could fulfill his greatest desires and his greatest fears at the same time.
    “Thank the Blessed Spirit you’re not really like that.” Jorrin ignored his train of thought.
    It’s for the better.
    She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to stand myself. Though I know many a lady who really is.”
    “I wouldn’t like you half as much as I do.”
    Why had he said that?
    How was he supposed to qualify his comment?
    Her cheeks reddened, but she locked her gaze with his.
    Jorrin’s heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat. “Actually, I care about you . . . a great deal.” It was more than that, but if he told her, Cera would shove him away. And he already wasn’t fond of being at arms’ length.
    Besides, he wanted to gauge her reaction to his lesser confession.
    Her eyes widened and her blush deepened. “Oh,” she whispered.
    Oh.
    Oh?
    She said oh?
    He blinked.
    Jorrin’s head reeled and his chest burned, heart tearing in two.
    They stared at each other.
    He put his hand to his forehead, and turned away. Jorrin shook his head, and when he glanced back at Cera, she stood up, taking a step toward him.
    “Jorrin, I . . . I’m . . .”
    Hadrian appeared in his home’s cabin’s doorway. “Braedon’s coming!”
    The interruption was like Avery’s the other night, when she’d put the first dent in his heart. Now his heart pounded for a different reason.
    His father was coming?
    Cera looked at the wizard, then back at him.
    Jorrin swallowed hard, torn. Ordering himself to get it together, he smiled at Hadrian and walked past her without another word.
    She looked down, and his magic tingled as he caught her rush of pain, but Jorrin ignored his answering guilt.
    She’d just crushed him after all.
    Why did she feel bad?
    “Did you hear what I said, lass?” Hadrian stared at Cera.
    Jorrin ignored