Page 116 of The Silversmith

“You were gone all day.”

“And I have returned.” He stood over me, arms casually crossed, his handsomely scarred face cold and assessing as he watched me chew and swallow every piece of bread he’d given me.

“Where did you go?” I asked, lifting the canteen of water to my lips.

His eyes trailed to my mouth as I drank. “I had something to take care of.”

I scowled, set the canteen down on the side table, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not eating or drinking any more until you tell me where you were.”

Groaning, he ran his hands over his face. “Do you think I enjoyed being away from you, Ella? Do you think I enjoyed the panic I felt every waking moment, not knowing what or how you were doing?” he snapped. “It was hell. Being away from you is absolute hell, but I had to do it.”

“And do you think I was enjoying myself?” I shoved at his chest again, only because I knew my strength was nothing to him. “Don’t you think I was worried about you? Wondering if you had been hurt or killed?”

With a tired sigh, he reached to pull me close. “Ella, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do!” I slapped his hand away. “You once asked me if it’d ever occurred to me that I might mean more to someone than some prophecy! Well, did it ever occur to you that you might mean more to me?” The world around me spun, tears bit at my eyes, but my voice was clear. “I had no idea where you were! If the roles were reversed, if I was gone and you didn’t know where I was, what would you have done?”

Without hesitating, he answered, “I would have ripped apart the world until I found you.”

“Yet I was stuck here waiting for you, just like when Elowen left!”

I regretted it as soon as I said it. Because it wasn’t true. Everything Elowen had done, he had done the opposite. He had left me warm and safe with plenty of food. He had left a note, promised to come back and kept his word.

Horrified awareness and regret cast a pall over him, his grim features illuminated by the roaring fire beneath the hearth. He opened his mouth to speak, but—

“Were you with a woman?” The words snapped out of me before I could think them through. I had no right to ask.

“Ella.” My name was his plea on his lips. “Gods, of course not!”

“Because I would understand—”

“I tracked down the Insidions’ camp,” he rushed out, his patience thin. “I was going to go last night, but you were hurt. So this morning, when I was confident you were alright, I went to that camp. I slit the throat of every single person in that camp to ensure there is no chance that news of you will get back to Molochai. That is where I was. So no, Aryella, there is no woman.”

The cramping tightness in my stomach eased with relief I didn’t think was mine to feel. But I felt it anyway.

He rested both hands on my shoulders and rubbed gentle circles over the cloth of my nightgown. “I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to scare you. But I needed to cover our tracks.”

“You should have taken me with you. I could have helped you.”

“You were hurt, Ella. Stabbed,” he bit out, fury shuddering through him. “I will not treat you like some helpless creature because you’re far from one. But I also won’t apologize for taking care of something myself if it might prevent you from being mortally wounded twice in twenty-four hours.”

I sighed, resigned. Indeed, I would have been no help. I wrapped my arms around his torso and breathed in the scent that had become my home.

He pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I’m sorry.” His strong arms folded around me. “Forgive me.”

My heart cracked wide open at his plea.

“I forgive you,” I whispered into his chest. I had already forgiven him a few minutes after realizing he’d left. Inhaling him again, I registered that he felt and smelled clean. “Why don’t you have any blood on you?”

He chuckled. “I bathed in a river on my way back to spare you the sight of carnage.”

“You bathed outside?” I looked up at him with sad eyes. “But it’s so cold.”

His gaze lingered on my mouth. “I often find cold baths very necessary.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled him with me. He followed, lowering himself to one knee—body tense and flush against my knees. I knew it wasn’t fair or appropriate or smart…

But the alcohol gave me courage, and I felt inclined to take advantage.