“Nothing, having never been married myself. But I can imagine.” His expression sobered a little. “You have a very kind heart, my lord. I have a feeling her ladyship could use that kindness. Permission to speak?”
“You usually give advice anyway. Go on.”
Taegis stopped in the middle of the street, a couple of feet from the door. “You were in a tight spot there by the Hyr River. At first, I thought your decision was foolhardy, even though I did not want to see you pained again by hurting someone with your gift. I wished at the time that we had left Lady Selene behind. But now . . .”
“But now?” Damien echoed.
“I think there is something more going on. I’m not quite the follower that your father was of the Old Ways. But there seems to be a touch of destiny on Lady Selene. Perhaps she was meant to come with us . . . which means perhaps the incident at the river was supposed to happen. Perhaps this union happened for a reason. If nothing else, then for her ladyship.”
Damien glanced at the inn as Caiaphas’s words came back to him. “Protect my daughter, no matter what.” Was it possible that Taegis was right? Was there more going on? Did the union happen so Damien would know her gift?
Could Selene be the one to unite the seven Great Houses?
A shiver ran down his spine, wholly unrelated to his damp clothing.
The room was dark when Damien opened the door to the second guest room. It was set up like the first, with four small beds lined up along the right wall, shutters across the windows on the other side of the room, and a table along the left wall. The candlelight from downstairs was the only way he could see inside the room. He thought about searching for another candle, then changed his mind.
“Sten will be guarding your room tonight,” Taegis said quietly from the hallway.
Damien nodded, indicating that he had heard.
“Is there anything else you need?”
Damien turned around. “No. Get some rest, Taegis. We still have a long way to go before we reach Nor Esen and Northwind Castle.”
“I will, my liege. Good night.”
“Good night, Taegis. And leave the door cracked for a moment so I can see.”
Taegis bowed, then walked down the corridor.
Damien turned back. A lone figure lay in the third bed from the door. He walked toward the middle of the room. Selene was curled up on her side, her back to the door, her hair unbound and spread out behind her. She appeared to be asleep, evidenced by the even rise and fall of her body.
She looked different tonight. Was it because he had grown used to seeing her dressed in black, with her hair in a long braid? Or because of their encounter earlier?
He shoved the images out of his mind and pulled off his damp tunic, carefully laying it across the first bed so it could dry. Then he made note of how far the second bed was from the door and how narrow the gap was between the beds, then shut the door.
Using his right hand to feel along, Damien made his way to the second bed, pulled back the covers, and sat down. After removing his boots, he lay down on his side, with his back to Selene, and let out a long breath.
In some ways, he was glad Selene was already asleep. The moments they were alone together were awkward at best. He knew her, and yet he didn’t. The marriage bond had opened his eyes to her gift, yet he didn’t know what she thought of it or how Ravenwood had hidden it all these years or why. Would Selene even want to talk about it?
He didn’t even know what her favorite color was, or what her childhood was like, or what she thought of her family, things he knew about Lady Adalyn and Lady Bryren.
Damien closed his eyes. He would protect Selene. He had sworn to, both to her father and through his vows. But could he learn to love the stranger in the bed next to his?
6
Selene listened as Damien opened the door and light spilled into the room. She heard the exchange between Taegis and Damien, then the rustling of cloth before the door was shut, sending the room back into darkness. Boots clapped softly across the wooden floor, then Damien crawled into the bed next to hers and let out a long sigh.
She wondered at the sound, while keeping her own body still. It wasn’t the first time they had shared a room. But whether it was because of fatigue or the newness of it all, she hadn’t truly noticed his presence until now. Or was it because he had startled her awake during her bath?
She clenched her hand next to her chest, her body flooding with heat again at the memory. Luckily she had washed her hair and left it down, covering her. What if she had been facing the other way? Or pulled her hair up? She swallowed and clenched her hand tighter.
She shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place. Her vigilance was waning the farther she drew from Rook Castle. She never would have been caught unaware back home.
She closed her eyes. Hopefully she could fall asleep as easily as she had in the tub. Those few moments of slumber had been bliss, even if they had been cut off rather abruptly and in an embarrassing manner.
But sleep never came. Damien breathed evenly close by, constantly reminding her that she was no longer alone. And when the darkness did come, vivid images from past dreamscapes filled her mind, causing her heart to race and for her to wake. And that dark figure was watching. Always watching.
Time dragged. As she lay on her side, staring at the shadowy area where his back was, her body was almost ready to pass out from fatigue, but her mind would not allow it. Part of her wanted to sit up and scream, another part wanted to curl up and cry. She couldn’t function without sleep. If only there was a way to diminish the images trapped inside her head. Someplace safe for her mind—
Her heart stopped and her middle tightened as she listened to Damien breathe. There was one place full of peace and light, one place that might give her a reprieve from previous nightmares. Those dreams could not follow her there.
Inside Damien’s dreamscape.
Her mouth went dry, and her heart began to beat again, so loud she could hear it inside her ears. She hadn’t dreamwalked since the night she’d chosen to let Damien live, and the memory of his luminous soul had faded in her mind as she was thrust into this new life.
But now it all came back, and with it the craving hunger inside of her to have it.
She clutched the covers beneath her chin. She could almost see the outline of his body from the dim light streaming in from beneath the shutter. The gap between their beds was only about a foot. If she slid to the edge of her own bed and reached out, she might be able to touch—
Damien moved, kicking the covers away from his upper body, and faced her.
Selene froze, waiting to see if he had awakened. Minutes ticked by, but Damien didn’t move again. She let out her breath and her body relaxed. He was now closer to the edge of his bed, and she was fairly sure his hand was hanging over the side. That meant all she had to do was lean a little closer. . . .
One touch, and she would be able to sleep. Just one touch . . .
She pulled her hand out from beneath the blanket and reached over. The moment her hand made contact with his skin, she lightly moved her fingers, feeling along the lines of his knuckles. Then she wrapped her fingers around the narrow part of his wrist.
Within a breath, she was yanked into his dreamscape. Selene changed into her raven form, a feeling of euphoria expanding inside her chest. With a joyous caw, she flew up into the light blue sky, the familiar beach of white sand, gentle waves, and rolling grass meeting her gaze.
She breathed in deeply and spread her wings, feeling the air buffet her body. After a moment, she dove toward the sand, bringing herself up at the last moment. If she could laugh in her bird form, she would. Instead, she dove and twisted through the air. The feeling of freedom was almost overwhelming.
After a few minutes, she soared upward until she hovered thirty feet above the white sand. Brilliant light spread across the dreamscape like a radiant summer day. The light sparkled off the deep blue-green sea. She closed her eyes and listened to
the gentle rocking of the waves.
A prickle of doubt entered her mind. Was this right? Was it right to enter Damien’s dreams for her own selfish reasons?
Selene fluttered toward the dunes, pondering her latest thought. She didn’t know. As she came near the ground, she spotted something. Her heart sped up again, and she flew toward the light that lay north of where she was.
As she drew closer, the feeling of joy and longing encompassed her being. Down between two dunes of white sand lay an orb of twisting flames of white light.
Damien’s soul.
Selene landed and changed into her human form. As she watched the tendrils of his life-force dance like a thousand tiny flames, the hunger inside of her leapt forward, drawing her closer.
She held back, watching the pulse of light. Moments later, she lowered her body toward the sand and lay down.
She curled on her side, one arm beneath her head, and watched the orb. It reminded her of those moments when the sun would enter her room just so and leave a pool of light on her bed, inviting her to curl up in the sunbeam and fall asleep.
Yes. She closed her eyes. It felt just like that. Warm and peaceful. Her body relaxed. She felt like she could stay forever. Right here, next to Damien’s soul.
Damien slowly opened his eyes. The pale light of morning shone through the crack between the shutters at the end of the room. He blinked and looked again. Selene lay a foot away, on the very edge of her bed, one arm tucked beneath her head, the other hanging off the side. If she moved any closer, she would topple off the mattress.
He lay still and watched her. She breathed in and out gently, her lips slightly open, her eyes shut, but not tightly. There was a faint color to her cheeks, and her hair hung across her shoulders and body in silky strands.
She was dressed in a simple, faded beige tunic much too big for her. Probably one of Mildred’s. It softened her, made her appear like a young woman and not the cold lady he was used to. He lifted himself up onto his elbow. If Selene were a flower, she would be a rose. Beautiful, but unattainable, surrounded by thorns.
How could he draw this woman out? How could he speak to her? How could he get past her icy shroud?
Light, I have no idea. But I’m willing to try.
Damien quietly got up and made his way around the beds to where his tunic lay. It was still slightly damp, but at least it smelled better, unlike the rest of him. He shrugged into the tunic, pulled on his boots, and headed out.
His men were already downstairs, dressed and ready, except for Sten, who’d had guard duty last night and was now sleeping.
“Good morning, my lord,” Taegis said with a bow. The other men greeted him in similar fashion. “Cohen and I were about to head out and see what we could find for provisions for the trip to Nor Esen. I think it will be best for us to be on the road before noon.”
Damien nodded. “Good idea.” The young monk grinned. No doubt he was excited to see Rone. Once again, Damien was glad he had brought Cohen along. The more the young man saw of the world, the more prepared he would be to take over for Father Dominick and lead Baris Abbey.
“Karl will stay here with you.”
Karl stood on the other side of Taegis, his arms folded, his hair wet and slicked back.
As Taegis and Cohen left, Mildred came into the main room through the back door, black clothing over one arm. “My lord,” she said and bowed her head. “I have Lady Maris’s clothing for her.”
Damien frowned. Lady Maris? Then he balked. That’s right. Selene was now Lady Maris. He fought the urge to run a hand across the back of his neck. Hearing that title was going to take some getting used to. “Her clothing?”
“Yes, I washed them last night. I’m afraid you were gone when I came back downstairs, or else I would have been happy to serve you as well.”
“Thank you.”
Mildred bowed again and headed for the stairs to deliver the clothes to Selene. Damien let out a sigh of relief. He would let Mildred be the one to wake Selene up. He wasn’t sure she would appreciate a man waking her up if all she had on was a tunic, even if that man was her husband.
His stomach fluttered, and he pinched his nose as another thought came to him. Where exactly would Selene room when they reached Northwind Castle? His room? Separate quarters? There was the spare room next to his, but was that really the precedent he wanted for their marriage? He had a feeling Lady Ragna and Caiaphas did not share a room. Most of the Great Houses did not share bedchambers with their spouses. But his parents had.
Damien pushed the thought aside. He would have time enough to think about it later. Right now, he needed to get ready to leave.
Damien helped Karl retrieve the horses and saddlebags. After securing their mounts, bags, and swords, he returned to the inn just as Selene stepped off the stairs and into the main dining area. Sunlight filled the inn with a soft glow, and the smell of baking bread spread across the room.
Her hair was back in a long braid, and she wore her usual black clothing, complete with her cloak and boots. The icy lady was back, the young woman from this morning gone. She studied him. Her expression was guarded, but there was a hint of thoughtfulness—and something more—in her face. And the circles beneath her eyes from the last few days were gone.
“Sleep well?” he asked as he crossed the room.
She hesitated, then answered, “Yes.”
“Good. I had hoped you would find rest here, in a real bed.”
Before she could answer, Karl stepped inside, along with Taegis and Cohen.
“Cohen and I were able to secure more food and another waterskin. We should have enough provisions to see us to Nor Esen.” Taegis turned his attention to Karl. “Go wake up Sten and let him know it’s time to go.”
Karl nodded and headed for the stairs.
Not long after, everyone was mounted and riding through Rone. Sunlight streamed through the bare trees that grew between the buildings. Leaves of red, yellow, and orange lay scattered across the cobblestone street. Green ivy clung to the stone homes, adding color to the grey. Wisps of smoke rose from narrow chimneys. The air held a cool, crisp feel to it.
As they rode toward the other end of town, men tipped their hats to the party, while women held rugs out of second-story windows and beat the dust from them. Children in faded tunics or dresses laughed and ran through the streets, dogs nipping at their heels.
Damien glanced at Selene from the corner of his eye. She seemed to be taking it all in with a sense of wonder. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted. A little girl in a blue dress with a white cap over her auburn hair stopped beside a tree and watched Selene for a moment, then waved.
Selene hesitated, then lifted her hand and waved back.
Damien brought his horse next to Selene’s. “These are your people now. I hope—no, I believe—you will come to love them as much as I do.”
“They remind me of my own people. I wish . . .” She looked down at her hand and clenched it into a fist.
“You wish?”
She took a deep breath and opened her hand. “Nothing.”
No, it wasn’t nothing. He had heard the passion in her voice. Did she regret leaving her home and her people behind?
Damien stared past Sten to the gate ahead that led northward out of Rone. Of course she did. If he was in her place, his own heart would be grieving for his homeland and people.
Would he have made the same choice she ultimately did? To forsake everything in order to save someone from another house?
He wasn’t sure.
They left Rone and continued along Trader’s Road north toward Nor Esen. The day waned and night came. Camp was made, horses cared for, food consumed, and then the party slept.
When the sun rose, they did as well and continued along the road. For two days the cycle continued, with little talk between the company. Each morning, Damien would wake up to find Selene an arm’s length away, on her side, one arm beneath her head, the other stretched out toward him. He would almo
st swear two women lived inside of Selene: the cold one who kept herself isolated from the others, and the quiet woman with hidden beauty who he found at daybreak, moments before she awoke.
On the third day, it began to rain. Oiled cloaks were pulled out of saddlebags, and everyone rode at a slower pace. The air grew cold and a biting wind whipped raindrops across Damien’s face. No one spoke as they rode through the mud and downpour. When it grew too dark to see, Taegis led them to an outcropping of trees just off Trader’s Road.
It was drier beneath the branches, but not by much. The horses huddled on one side beneath the trees as Sten tried to get a fire going. After a few minutes, he was able to produce a small flame, but there was only enough dry wood to last a short time. Everyone sat around the fire and ate stale bread and dried meat.
Damien laid out two wool blankets between the nearest tree trunk and fire. “Selene,” he said quietly. When she looked up, he pointed to the blanket near the fire. “For you.”
She nodded and came over. “Thank you.” She lay down without hesitation, wrapping her cloak and the other half of the blanket around her. Days ago, she would have been wary about sleeping near everyone else. It appeared she was becoming more comfortable with their small party—and with him in particular. Good.
The fire burned down low as the others prepared for bed. Damien lay on his back, looking up through the thick array of tree branches. The rain had stopped, but a cold wind still blew. Selene was already asleep nearby, Cohen curled up on the other side of the fire. Sten started snoring and Karl grunted. Taegis kept the first watch.
Just as Damien’s eyelids started falling, Selene gasped and sat up, clutching her cloak. She looked around as if to see if anyone had spotted her. Damien kept his eyes as slits and watched her. She twisted around and slowly lay back down, her face toward him.
Minutes ticked by; the only sounds were the last few snaps and crackles from the dying fire and the drip-drip of rainwater through the forest.
Damien shut his eyes.
And felt something touch his hand.
Flight of the Raven Page 5