???
In the days that followed, I barely had a moment to miss Sorcha. It was as though Stormsby as a whole were grieving, seeking each other out – and for once, it wasn’t gossip they wanted. It was comfort. With the Kingsmen combing every inch of the village and its outskirts day and night,The Mage and Rosewas the one place left to find that comfort. And so, every day, half of Stormsby piled into my tavern to drink and talk and mourn.
It was strange to imagine that just few months ago, I would have doneanythingfor this level of business. This hard-worn livelihood that meant the difference between my parents’ legacy slowly rotting away, and my list of sorely needed repairs finally being addressed. But now, watching the coin pile up day by day, that victory felt hollow.Everythingfelt hollow really, my thoughts suppressed beneath the buzz of labour, my magic low and weak all day until almost the precise moment that Caelan stepped through the front door.
Tonight was no different. My Flame was flickering anxiously; it was hard to ignore, even with the long round of last-call pints to be pulled, the filthy, cluttered tables to be cleared, the crate of used glasses waiting to be loaded into the kitchen. With every stutter of the magic in my chest, I couldn’t help but glance at the door. Even when most of the patrons had cleared out, and my mind was half-engaged in a conversation with Ciara about her father’s delayed wake as she followed me about the tavern while I cleared tables.
“Father Murphy has a remembrance mass planned for Tanner that morning,” she was saying, depositing a few glassesinto my crate, “but he thinks he can be here just before noon if –”
My heart gave a sudden leap with thewhooshof Flame that encased it, in the exact same moment that Ciara cut herself off. I knew before I turned that the door had swung open. And, as ever, Caelan was the first one through it.
It was clear at once that he was in a mood.
Clear to all, it seemed. The soldiers filing in behind him were silent as the dead, the scuffle of their feet on the doormat little more than a whisper to the clatter he made as he peeled off his armour and discarded it on a nearby chair. Even Brennan, bringing up the rear to herd the last of the men through the door, offered barely more than an exhausted smile. At the tangible chill in the air, Postmaster Ginny and her husband, who had been nursing lukewarm pints of cider, were quick to throw back the dregs of their drinks and amble to their feet. All of this I noted from my periphery; because Caelan’s eyes had found mine and I was pinned in place by the vibrant, burning urgency there as he prowled toward me.
“Evening, Ciara.” He spared her a nod before his gaze snapped back to mine and he said in that low, rolling lilt that made my skin prickle with heat; “Rosie.”
“Erm – evening, Captain,” said Ciara’s voice at my side.
Ciara dropped the glass in her hands into my crate at once, the clatter of it breaching my warm hypnosis for just long enough to return her quietgoodnight. She made quick work of her cloak, and was out the door on Ginny’s shuffling heels within a moment.
Caelan considered me a moment longer, then took the crate from my hands and finally broke our crackling eye contact. The Captain turned to Brennan and said;
“I’m done. That concludes tonight’s orders. With the exception of this one: bed, now. Everyone.”
Then he turned away to clean up the tables, and I shot a glance at Brennan, who gave me something between a grimace and a shrug. Entirely unhelpful, but before I could press him, he pinched at his creased brow and turned to the throng of eerilysilent soldiers shuffling around by the door.
“Alright lads, you heard your Captain. Get upstairs, we’ve an early start.”
The men filed out so quickly it was plain they’d been eagerly awaiting the command. Brennan stood by as they passed him, and when they’d cleared the tavern, he glanced at his Captain’s back, turned one last small, oddly sad smile on me, and followed them out the door. In the silence that followed, Caelan continued sweeping pints and half-eaten bowls of crackers into the crate. Tension poured off his shoulders, but when he didn’t immediately turn, I left him to his space with a mental shrug and ducked back behind the bar to start cleaning up. The second I did, he turned, frowning and setting down the heaving crate when he spotted me wiping down the counters. Apparently my big strong Kingsman was content to brood in silence, but the extra two feet of distance between us was unacceptable.
“Did something happen?” I finally called.
The plank slammed behind him with a force that reverberated a little, and I looked up to catch him scowling as he stalked over. He stopped behind me and his arms snaked around my middle, tightening as he buried his face in my shoulder.
“Bad day.”
I reached back to smooth my fingers through his hair, and felt his breath slow where his chest pressed into my back.
“You’ll find him,” I soothed. “You will.”
He huffed something unintelligible into my shoulder, but before I could ask, he’d shifted his focus, lips trailing coarse, bristled kisses up my neck. I tilted my head to give him better access, humming as I tangled my fingers deeper in his hair and smiled a little dreamily.
“Thought you were grumpy?”
“Not with you.”
“Thought you were going to bed?”
“Only if you’re coming with me.”
His lips were distractingly light beneath my ear and I made a noise that might have been a groan if it weren’t so breathy. I knottedmy fingers tighter in his hair, gesturing vaguely around at the mess with my free hand.
“Caelan, I have so much to–”
“It can wait,” he murmured against my skin. “It can. Fuck it, I’ll get up at the rooster’s crow and do it all for you, I swear. Please, Rosie.”
The desperation in his voice did something funny to my lungs, all the air evaporating to be replaced with pure Flame. The thought that he needed me so badly he’d plead and bargain for it, not a hint of shame. He didn’t miss the catch in my breath at his plea, and I felt his own breath huff out in a dry laugh where his chest pressed against my back..
