Asher broke off as the door opened.
Casrian stepped into the room.
He was all cleaned up again, shiny as a blade. Freshly shaved and wearing neatly tailored clothes. Black breeches and ridingboots, a shockingly white shirt and dark waistcoat. A lock of blond hair fell across his forehead like he’d just run a hand through his hair.
He paused at the threshold like he wasn’t sure if he should enter. Then his blue eyes locked on hers, and he started forward.
“Captain,” Asher said brightly, rising from the bed. “Look who’s awake.”
“Is she all right?” Casrian’s voice was rough.
Though he directed the question to Asher, he kept staring at her, his sharp eyes taking everything in. Her puffy eyes and cracked lips. Her hair that felt itchy with dried sweat. Her bandaged hand lying on the blanket.
She lifted it and tried for a smile. “Looks like I got branded after all.”
Casrian did not look remotely amused. “Asher?”
Asher brushed his hands on his breeches and turned to face his captain, drawing himself up like a good soldier to give his report. “She’s alert and as well as can be expected after being unconscious for so many days. The head wound is healing well. I don’t think there will be any long-term consequences from that. The hand will take time. She needs rest and food. I’ll dose her again with some painkillers after that.”
She scowled. “You’re not knocking me out again.”
“You’ll take whatever Asher tells you to take,” Casrian said.
“I think we both know better than that.”
“Shall we consult your mother?”
She huffed and leaned back against the pillows. He fought dirty.
Asher backed away from the bed. “It’s good to see you up and talking, Rowan. I’ll let your mother know you’re awake and send some food up.” He nodded at Casrian. “Captain.”
And he was gone, abandoning her like a coward. She’d thought they were friends.
Casrian stood looking down at her, as if he didn’t know what to say. It was strange to see him look uncertain. He was always so sure of himself. But she could feel it too. A wall stood between them.
The witch was dead. Their partnership had come to an end. All that was left to do was collect her money and leave.
Casrian took a hesitant step closer. “How are you?”
“Tired. Achy. Confused.”
His brows drew together in concern, and she waved it aside. “It’s not the head wound. I lost so much time. I don’t even know where I am.”
“This is my estate. Emrys evacuated the whole village to Sulen. It was overflowing. There was no room for us there. The staff keeps this place ready. It wasn’t far.”
His estate… She’d almost forgotten about that. Casrian Dain—baron, hero, grandson of a duke. He was the rich man. This was his home.
She plucked at the heavy bedspread, looked out the window. “It’s lovely.”
He shrugged. “It still doesn’t feel like mine. This has been my longest stay since my father bestowed it upon me.”
“Did you finally get to see what it feels like to sleep in a room by yourself?”
The edge of his mouth curled in the slightest of smiles. “This is my room, actually, though I’ve never stayed here. It’s the largest. With the healers in and out, I thought it would work best.”
She’d taken his bed.
“Where have you been sleeping?”
