“You hate me. You hate that you found me, and then you had to bring me here, into your home, where you should’ve felt safe. All because I might turn out to be good for something. But I’m not.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t hate you. Where do you even get these ideas?”
She approached him with care, avoiding the worst of the blood, keeping her eyes on him like she expected him to bolt. She reached up and brushed his cheek with her fingers. When he didn’t flinch back, she was relieved but also pissed off. She fought the urge to grip his jaw and squeeze. She wanted to slap him, hit him, but history said that was not the winning strategy.
“You didn’t come back,” he murmured.
“I–” She groaned. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I left you here and disappeared for a day and a night. But it’s not because I hate you or think you’re a cross to bear. I’m not in the habit of bearing crosses.”
He sucked his lower lip in as if he were stopping himself from contradicting her. Briar cocked an eyebrow. Was that what she was doing? Bearing crosses? Ridiculous.
“I was dead tired. Destroyed. A walking corpse. I lied down for an hour and woke up twenty-four hours later. I didn’t know what to do first: pee or eat. If you really must know, I drank a whole cup of water.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
That was it. She’d been a saint so far. She hit him in the chest with her open palm.
He yelped in shock. “Don’t do that.”
“You deserve it!” She hit him again with her fist.
“No, I know, but you’ll break your hand.”
Briar cradled her throbbing knuckles.
“You’re probably right,” she winced.
She sat on the bed and pulled him down with her. She scooted closer and placed her hands on his cheeks.
“Listen to me. You must stop doing this. I’ve never seen anyone torture themselves like you do, and I’ve lived at a convent for most of my life. Do you know how much religious people like to torture themselves? You’re putting them to shame.”
A smile tugged at Rune’s lips.
“Proud of yourself, are you?” she teased.
“Not one bit.”
She chuckled. “I’m starting to understand what Seraphina saw in you.”
“Seraphina left.”
“Mhm. If you thought you got rid of her, I say think again. That one doesn’t give up easily.”
“You think I’ll see her again…”
She studied his face, the blood-stained scarf that covered his empty eye sockets.
“Something like that.”
Before they could get too emotional, she slapped her hands on her thighs and got up.
“This is a disaster. You look like you raided hell and emerged victorious. I’ll go heat water so you can take a bath.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Keep away from any knives. Too much to ask?”
