Page 29 of Memory of Ashes

She jumped. Casyl sat in the corner, his ankles crossed on the window ledge. He held a goblet in one hand, silver streaks shimmering through his glazed eyes in the moonlight.

“I’m sorry.” She stumbled over the words. No one was usually there so late. “I thought I was alone.”

“So did I.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave,” she said and made her way to the door.

He rose smoothly. “Stay,” he commanded. “I’ll get you a drink.”

She couldn’t refuse him, or perhaps she didn’t want to. He crossed the room and poured her a drink from the liquor shelf.

He handed her a goblet of red liquid. She inspected it, swirling the liquid around. Remembering her behaviour the last time she drank brought a flush to her cheeks.

“Wine?” she asked, and he nodded. “I hope it tastes as nice as that gold stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow. “When did you try that?”

“Ruven gave it to me,” she said.

He smiled at that. “Trust him to give you the strongest drink here. I think you’ll find the wine smoother.”

She raised the goblet to her lips and tasted the wine while he watched her with catlike intensity.

She returned to the window and the moonlit waves below.

Casyl stopped close behind her. The scent of cedar made every muscle in her body tense.

“I’ll miss this view,” he murmured.

She turned towards him. Moonlight caught the distant expression on his face. “What do you mean?”

“I leave to join the troops soon.” He turned fully towards her. His attention lingered on her mouth.

“And who’s going to keep me alive if you’re not around?” she teased.

His smile faded almost as soon as it appeared.

“Try not to die whilst I’m gone, Amelia,” he said solemnly. He turned and walked out of the room without a backward glance.

Amelia released her breath, unaware that she’d been holding it. That was the first time he’d used her name. She liked the way it sounded on his tongue.

Amelia returned to her room, forgetting about the library. She lay in bed thinking about her interaction with Casyl and secretly wishing he would knock.

*

The sun shone through the small window of her room, waking her gently. She sat up in bed, thinking of last night. Casyl had said her name, and it had caused something to stir within her. The alcohol and the moonlight may have played a part. One minute he was cold towards her, and the next he was saying her name like that, making her wish he’d walk into her room.

She dressed and rushed down to the main hall. She’d learned the hard way that fighting with no food made her sluggish, and she’d slept in.

The commotion reached her ears before she saw it. Guards hurried in and out of the hall. Ruven stood near the edge. She strolled over to join him. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“War preparations,” he replied between mouthfuls of food.

Men clapped one another on the back and joked as they polished armour or sharpened their swords. She hadn’t seen the hall so alive.

“Will you be going with them?” she asked.

“Not yet. I’m staying here to keep an eye on things. Tharos will go with Casyl and the army.”