I set the tray on a nearby table and tilt my chin. “Was that a compliment?”
“An observation.”
“High praise coming from you.”
He almost smiles. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
As we prepare to leave, Sally pulls me into a brief embrace. “Remember what I’ve taught you, and you’ll do just fine.”
“I won’t forget,” I assure her.
Outside, the sun dips low on the horizon, casting golden light across the hills. Ronan helps me mount Sabre, his hands firm on my waist. A subtle warmth blooms where his fingers briefly press against me, but I quickly dismiss it. We set off toward the inn, the comfortable silence between us broken only by the rhythmic clopping of Sabre’s hooves and the distant chorus of evening birdsong.
Just as the first stars begin to shimmer in the twilight sky, Ronan breaks the silence. “You did well these past few days.”
I glance back at him, surprised by the unexpected compliment. “Another observation?”
“A fact.”
“Careful, Ronan. People might think you actually care.”
A comfortable silence settles between us once more as the inn comes into view, warm light spilling from its windows like a beacon. We reach the stables, and Ronan helps me dismount. This time, I’m more than aware of the strength in his hands as they linger at my waist before he steps back.
The soft glow of lanterns guides our way as we walk toward the inn, and a sudden wave of homesickness washes over me. I think of Stella, probably sitting in our favorite tea shop, her fingers wrapped around a steaming mug, wondering where I am. Is she worried? Has she reported me missing? Or does time move differently here? Maybe no time has passed at all back home.
Uncertainty coils tight in my chest, a knot of fear and longing that I can’t untangle.
What if I never get back?
“Are you all right?” Ronan’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. His eyes search mine, concern etched in the slight furrow of his brow.
I wrap my arms around myself. “Do you ever wonder if—” I stop, unsure if I want to reveal the depth of my fears.
“If what?”
I shake my head, offering a small laugh. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”
He doesn’t press further, but his gaze lingers, and I wonder if he can see through the partial lie.
Inside, the atmosphere between us has shifted subtly, the sharp edges of our previous interactions dulling. Between the emotional high of finally nailing my role and the physical toll from the week’s relentless training, I can barely keep my eyes open. I practically sleepwalk up the creaking wooden stairs to our room.
I kick off my shoes and plop down on the bed. Sighing, I fall back on the mattress with my legs dangling off the end. “I’ve never been more exhausted in my life,” I say, letting my eyelids flutter closed.
Absently, I listen to Ronan’s steps as he crosses the room, the thud of his boots hitting the floor, the rustle of fabric as he shrugs out of his cloak. The subtle scents of leather and steel fill the air, and I take a deep breath.
“I’m not moving from this spot until the tub is filled,” I say, my voice muffled by the pillow.
“I will wake you when it’s ready.”
A faint smile tugs at my lips.
God, I love the deep timbre of his voice.
Wait, did I just think that? I hope I didn’t say it out loud. No, I’m sure I didn’t.
“You won’t have to wake me, because I’m not going to sleep,” I insist, fighting the heaviness pulling at my eyelids.
“If you say so, naughty nymph.” He chuckles softly.
