Many doors led off the upper hallway. Verice didn’t need to search each one, he could hear her singing toward the back. She sounded so joyful. Charrin’s harsh words hadn’t spoiled that for her then. That pleased him.
She didn’t look up when he entered, so he leaned on the doorjamb watching her polishing the mantel of a small fireplace. A glance told him this room was done, with the smell of drying wood and polish mingling together.
“Warna?”
She turned then, startled, but clearly happy. “M’lord, you’re back. Is it mid-afternoon already, then?”
“More like mid-night than mid-morning,” Verice said.
Surprised, she glanced behind him to the hallway windows. “Oh, Lord of Light, I lost track of time. And I’ve kept these poor lads at it all day,” Warna shook her head, and moved forward. “I need to set them free. We can finish tomorrow.”
Verice moved to block Warna with his body, and she gave him a startled glance, her brown eyes wide and clear. “I gave no order that this building be cleared,” he said softly.
The barest blush crossed her cheeks as she lowered her gaze. “M’lord, I thought—”
Her stomach rumbled.
“You owe me an explanation,” Verice said firmly. “Over our meal.”
“Of course, m’lord.” Warna’s blonde head was still down, her hands twisting the rag between her fingers.
He held his position for a moment more, until she looked up, her guilt quite clear in her eyes. He moved then, giving her just enough space to slide past him and down the stairs.
Chapter Nineteen
Warna waited nervously in Verice’s outer room as he cleaned up in his quarters. The serving boys had already rushed in with plates, kav, and covered dishes. They’d set the table and vanished as quickly as they’d come.
She could hear him in the other room, moving around, water splashing as he washed.
What had seemed like a wonderful idea this morning was feeling not-so-clever now. She’d changed quickly, putting on her only dress for this meal. She smoothed the skirts down as she stood by her chair. The dogs were sprawled all around the room, and seemed to sense her nervousness. The sandy-colored one even came over and leaned against her, looking up with big brown eyes, as if it understood her fears.
Of course, it might have been more a desire to be petted than expression of sympathy; Warna chuckled at the thought, and started scratching its ears.
Verice emerged from the back, in a loose white tunic and his leather trous. His hair fell free, flowing down his back, slightly damp at the temples from his quick wash. He gestured to the table, and Warna sat, bracing herself for his anger.
But Verice just uncovered a bowl of rabbit stew, thick with vegetables, and gestured for her bowl. She handed it to him and reached to unwrap the warm bread, tearing off chunks for both of them.
Verice served her and then himself, and started eating immediately. Warna didn’t waste any time starting on her own bowl. The stew smelled wonderful, and she hadn’t eaten at the midday meal.
Verice passed a crock of soft cheese, and they ate in silence.
He filled a second bowl for himself. “More?” he asked.
“No, thank you.” Warna was still working on her first. “Bread?”
“Yes, thank you.” Verice accepted the basket, and tore off another hunk. “Why did you take it upon yourself to clean the Healing Hall?”
Warna stopped eating, and used her napkin. Verice didn’t seem upset; his face was set and controlled. There was no hint of emotion there. But there’d been none at Wolfe’s either. “It needed doing,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know the details of the attack, but what would happen if there were wounded that needed tending here? The place was in no state fit for ill or injured warriors, that was certain. And this building is overflowing with the healthy already.” Warna raised her chin. “Besides, I needed a place to sleep. The poor sergeant couldn’t keep shifting men around to suit my needs.”
The worst ofit was that she was right.
He should be furious, because even if she wasn’t aware, his men knew full well that he’d shut down the castle for security reasons. But—
“In the past, the worst hurt were brought here to my healers. They were the best.” Verice admitted, more to himself than to Warna.
“They were Elven?” Warna asked.
Verice snorted. “Elven healers do not concern themselves with human or half-elven anatomy, Warna. They tend to focus on magical healing, and rarely deign to touch a human. No, our healers were half-elven for the most part, from around the barony.”
