I study the pretty constellation on my door—a dusting of stars that surround the crescent moon like worshippers.
The echo of approaching steps reaches me, and my heart launches an attack as I look to The Safe ...
My hand tightens around the glass vial stoppered with a cork.
He’s going to be so pissed.
Rhordyn’s booming footfalls encroach, and I draw a deep breath, letting it crumble out of me, my hair a thick veil hanging heavy around me like golden armor. Not that I think it’ll do me any good.
There’s a pause before I hear his key shove into the hole. Hear it clank around and dash the bolt aside.
Hear him open the door and remove the goblet ...
Silence.
Nothing but bone-chilling silence.
I try not to smile, biting down on my lips to tame them.
I probably shouldn’t find this so amusing.
A low, animalistic growl has my skin prickling, prefacing a shove of my door. It creaks inward and Rhordyn barrels through the opening, skewering me with an arrowhead glower.
His eyes widen before he shoots his gaze at the ceiling, punching fists to his sides, spilling crystal-clear water across the ground. “What are you doing, Orlaith?”
“I just want to talk,” I say, waving the vial of blood at him before tucking it down the front of my chest wrap. “You’re going to have a proper conversation with me in exchange for my offering tonight. One that involvesactualspeaking and not just brooding stretches of silence and the odd grunting sound.”
He mutters something in that strange language I don’t understand, then clunks the goblet atop a small table and pinches the bridge of his nose.
My eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you have head pain?” I ask, waving a hand in the direction of my stash of jars, each filled with various bits of dried flora. “I have the perfect antido—”
“If you try stuffing a leaf in my mouth, I’ll bite your finger, get what I came here for, and be gone before you even feel the pinch of my teeth. Now get off your knees, and put some fucking pants on.”
Rude.
“Would it kill you to use manners every once in a while?” I ask, pushing up and giving him my back. I dig through my drawers for some longer pants, seeing as my sleep shorts are apparently inadequate. “Besides, you didn’t seem so disgusted by my thighs earlier when you had your hand on one.”
No answer. Hardly surprising.
I wiggle into a loose pair of trousers, tie them at the waist, and gesture down my body with a dramatic sweep of my hand. “Better?”
He’s staring at me, jaw so gritted I wonder if it’s fused shut.
“Guess that’s a yes. This two-way conversation is off to a strong start. I’ll have to set you challenges more often.”
He very nearly guts me with a glare, but I look away fast enough to avoid any major damage, pointing at a calico package peeking out from his bunched fist.
“What’s in your hand?”
He lobs the parcel through the air, and I nab it, loosening the string fastenings and layers of damp cheesecloth, finally unveiling a tiny bulb that’s such a deep shade of purple it almost looks black.
A familiar, potent smell taints the air.
“A single dose of caspun to tide you over for the night. Zali was able to procure a month’s supply from a traveling merchant on her way across the border.”
