“Ye were nearly murdered yesterday.”
“A minor inconvenience.”
River crossed her arms, unable to believe that Archer was still joking about this. At first, she had attributed it to the stress, but now he seemed to not be taking this seriously enough, regardless of what he claimed.
“Ye were bleedin’ all over the floor,” River reminded him. “Ye fought a man when ye were already injured. What’s next? What if...what if . . .”
She couldn’t say it. It was a thought that she had been avoiding ever since the attack, and now the words were stuck in her throat and she couldn’t force them out. It was too terrible a thought, that he might be attacked again, and this time, he might not survive it.
The restless ache in her chest softened slightly as he approached her. Still, she searched his face carefully.
“Ye truly are alright?” she asked, when he said nothing.
“I’m alright,” Archer said quietly. “It looks worse than it was. Daenae fash...we’ve taken measures to ensure this doesnaehappen again. And if it does, despite it all, this time, I’m prepared for a fight.”
River couldn’t help but scoff at that. “As if ye werenae prepared for a fight before. Sometimes...sometimes I wonder if ye actually wish to fight that person.”
“Of course I do,” said Arche, as if the question was foolish. “I wish to catch whoever did it, and the only way to do somethin’ like that is by fightin’ him.”
With a sigh, River pulled back from him and began to pace up and down the sitting room. “See...that’s what I fear,” she said, her voice coming out thin and fearful. “I fear that ye’ll try to find whoever it is and...and it willnae end well for ye.”
Much to her surprise, Archer laughed, as if what she had said was funny. “River...I can assure ye, it willnae end badly for me. Trust me, I ken what I’m doin’.”
“That is nae reassurin’,” River insisted. “Should I simply take yer word for it?”
“Aye,” said Archer. “Of course ye should.”
River fell silent then, as she couldn’t quite think of something to argue back. Archer’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment too long. Then, unexpectedly, he reached for her hand.
“Thank ye,” he said softly.
River blinked in surprise. “For what?”
“For worryin’.”
His words gave River pause. It should have been obvious to her, she thought. It should have been obvious that she was concerned, but for some reason she never believed she was truly concerned for Archer. In the year they had been married, she had managed to convince herself not to care about what happened to him. They were hardly anything more than two people living in the same castle, their paths rarely intersecting.
And yet now everything had changed, and she couldn’t deny the fact that she did, indeed, worry about him; constantly now, apparently.
River looked down briefly, suddenly aware of how much had shifted between them in such a short time. Not long ago, she would have only paused for a moment after hearing Archer had been injured. Now the memory of finding him bleeding on the floor still made her stomach twist painfully.
Archer studied her with a quiet intensity that reminded her of his past self.
“What is it?” River asked, confused by that gaze.
“Naethin’,” said Archer with a small shrug. “Is it a crime to be lookin’ at me wife?”
He cannae be serious! I’m tryin’ to express me concerns and he’s...he’s...distractin’ me!
River rolled her eyes to hide the heat rising to her face. “Ye’re unbearable.”
“And yet ye invited me back.”
“I didnae invite ye back,” River reminded him. “Ye were the one who invited himself here.”
“I distinctly remember ye tellin’ me I could come,” Archer said, as if he was making a good point.
“Aye, I said that,” River admitted. “But ye were the one who suggested it.”
