The woman lifted her chin, watching me warily. With fear. “It’s better for the king to explain everything. I’ll summon a servant to help you bathe.”
My heart throbbed with sorrow as she turned to go. “What about my family? Please tell me.”
The woman didn’t look back, but she paused for a step. “The king will be here soon. I promise.”
A foreboding feeling rose in me. What isn’t she telling me?
“What is it? Please!”
But she’d already gone out the door.
Within moments, female servants arrived. They bowed toward me, saying little as they took me to the adjoining bathroom, pulling and poking and prodding in a blur of activity that was overwhelming.
Just as they’d finished pulling me from the bath and slipping me into a robe, the door to the bathroom flew open.
The tug in my heart pulled tight, Rykr’s presence flooding my body with warmth before I saw him.
Then he was there, striding into the room, and my heart stumbled at the sight of him.
Every trace of the Pendaran warrior had nearly disappeared. His hair was still dark, but his clothes spoke of the Ederyn prince I’d never really known. His striking features were even more beautiful, the chiseled jawline and strong cheekbones set in an unreadable mask.
His piercing blue-green eyes met mine, the rawness in his intense gaze nearly making my knees buckle.
He wore a thick tunic over woolen trousers, which were tucked into sturdy fur-lined leather boots. On his broad chest was a leather vest, adorned with metal studs, leather bracers carved with dragons and wolves encasing his arms. The thick, fur-lined cloak fastened with a silver Valknut brooch swished as he strode toward me, then stopped a few feet away.
Rykr gave the servants a hard look as they curtsied. “You’re dismissed.”
They rose quickly, scrambling toward the door.
“Should we expect you for your midday meal?” one servant, an older woman, asked as she stopped at the doorway.
“Not likely,” Rykr snapped, not taking his eyes off me.
She bowed her head, then left.
The door closed behind them.
I rubbed my arms, mystified at my sudden desire for them to return. “Rykr,” I managed in a soft voice, feeling oddly exposed.
His dark brows drew together, the hint of a line between them, then his gaze softened. A smile curved at his lips. “Gods, I’ve missed the sound of that name. Everyone has taken to calling me Calix once again.”
“Missed?” I asked, searching his gaze. “It can’t have been that long since we left the Havamal.”
“You’ve been asleep for a month, Seren.”
Tears pricked my eyes at his words. “What?” My legs felt suddenly weak, and I searched for something to sturdy myself on. My fingertips gripped the edge of a chaise in the bathroom.
A chaise. In the bathroom. Absurd.
“How is that possible?” I whispered, beginning to understand the woman’s hesitation at answering my questions. So much must have happened between now and then. Where is my family? I wanted to scream. But I held back, fear pressing in on me from all sides.
“The High Magister thinks it may have to do with the dragon’s blood that was inside you when I took the oath.”
He rested his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist and stared at me, as though afraid to come any closer.
Touch me. I’m right here. I’ve come back to you, I wanted to scream.
But a chasm seemed to exist between us, where once there had been nothing but all-consuming passion, there was hesitation and distance.
