Page 54 of The Sun He Buried

He lifts his head and looks at the frame. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s still under us.”

“A strong sign.”

He kisses the end of my nose, then gets up.

The loss of his warmth is immediate. I object, but he’s already crossing to the washstand. Naked. I watch him go with the attention this deserves.

Baldr wets a cloth and returns.

“You’re staring.”

“You keep walking around without clothes.”

“In your room.”

“That makes it more distracting.”

He cleans my stomach, then himself. No awkwardness. No sudden distance. He gives me a drink of water, takes one after me, and climbs back into bed.

I settle against his side. His arm comes around my shoulders, and I put one leg over his.

The room looks the same. My dress is on the floor. The two buttons from my basket are still beneath the table. The unicorn sits against the pillows with her horn bent sideways from Baldr’s shoulder.

He still feels like Baldr.

I like that.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“Very.”

“Nothing hurts?”

I consider my legs. “Tomorrow may be difficult.”

His chest moves beneath my cheek when he laughs. “We’ll be sitting most of the day.”

“Good.”

I close my eyes.

Then open them.

“Why will we be sitting most of the day?”

Baldr goes quiet.

I lift my head. “Baldr.”

“We leave for Myrkviðr at sunrise.”

I sit up. The blanket falls to my waist. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”