Page 80 of Tides of Shadows

“Lord Cavareth,” Peter said softly.

Aidenar stirred with a low groan.

“Peter, if it is my mother again, tell her I am asleep. For mercy’s sake, protect me if necessary.”

Peter smiled faintly.

“No, my Lord. You have a guest. I took the liberty of letting her in. Lady Veymaris.”

His silver eyes opened at once. He tried to rise too quickly but winced, folding over in pain.

“Slowly,” I said, rushing to his side and steadying him by the shoulder. “Thank you, Peter. I will manage from here.”

“When I recover, remind me that I owe you a proper stone,” Aidenar muttered toward the servant.

“No need, my Lord,” Peter replied with a quiet smile, then left, closing the door behind him.

We were alone.

I sat by his bedside, studying him in silence. The light played through his hair, and the faint stubble along his jaw lent him a rougher beauty. I had never seen him unshaven before. I would have to grow used to it.

“You saved me,” he said quietly, brushing his fingers against my hand. “Had it not been for you, I would not be here.”

“It was the healers who saved you,” I replied, striving to keep my tone composed.

“No,” he said, his voice firm. “You.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt charged, as if one word might set it aflame.

“Perhaps you persuaded me with that dinner,” I said lightly, attempting to break the tension.

“Do you recall what you and Jasmine spoke of before she attacked?” I asked.

He frowned.

“Little enough. She was... strange. Said something about being ‘rewarded by the Lord’. She called him Malric. I thought she meant some noble patron, but she mentioned a Family.” He paused. “I don’t believe anyone in the Gathering would dare to use black magic. Sofia would sense it at once.”

He leaned back against the pillows, his voice growing weary.

“Then I couldn’t move. As though my body were frozen. And then she struck.” His gaze met mine, heavy with gratitude and exhaustion. “Had you not come when you did... I would be dead.”

We spoke a while longer, about nothing that truly mattered, small and trivial things. I didn’t wish to linger in talk of Plague, betrayal, or death.

Then came a soft knock at the door.

“My Lord, your meal,” a voice murmured.

“Not now. Bring it later,” Aidenar replied without looking away from me.

“The healers will be here soon, for your bandage,” the servant added.

Aidenar’s face twisted with annoyance.

I smiled faintly.

“I should go. You need rest.”

“Stay. Please.” His voice was gentle.