Page 119 of The Silversmith

“Please.” His appeal wrought deep tremors from his chest. With gentle urgency, he pressed his calloused palms to my cheeks. “Gods be damned, Ella, do not sacrifice yourself for this world.”

My lips quivered. I was afraid. But then I thought of Ollie and how I would still trade places with him if I could.

Despite the dread pooling in my belly, I knew my answer.

If I had to, I would give it all.

Begrudgingly, I lowered his hands from my face and my gaze from his. “I will do what I have to do.”

“I know you will.” His fingers tightened around mine in my lap. “And I’m asking you—begging you—not to.”

“And I’m saying no.” Prying my hands from his strong grip, I stood and wiped my eyes. “I won’t make that promise.”

Soon, I wouldn’t be his problem anymore. Soon, he would return to whatever it was he’d been doing before his agreement with Simeon had sent him to me. Soon, he would be relieved of this mess. When the time came for battle, I knew he would join the fight. There was a chance I might see him again, but by then, I would be married to Elias, and Gavin would be another soldier in my army rather than my teacher or my friend.

“Ella, sweetheart—”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” And before he could contest, I added, “We should go if we want to get to Brinnea before the celebrations start.”

When I started to lift my nightgown over my head to change for the day, he rushed out the door—as I knew he would—without a single look.

***

An hour into the final leg of our trip, my knees gave out. My wound pulled and ached with every stop up the steep, rocky hills. I couldn’t do it. I tried and tried. And he let me try despite my struggling grunts, until one icy rock had me slipping, falling, panting, had my hands gripping my wounded side while I bit back frustrated tears. My tears were where he drew the line.

He shifted our bags to hang off his shoulder and carried me the rest of the way on his back, my extra weight no hindrance to his strong, agile movements. I almost fell asleep once or twice with my cheek pressed into his shoulder, but I refused to miss a single frozen waterfall.

They were everywhere. Long, perilous icicles—affixed, suspended in time—dropping off rocky cliffs into lakes of blue water so clear they had to hold nature’s sacred breath within them. Evergreens were scattered across the rough forests and reached up into winter’s gloomy gray sky. Snow crunched beneath Gavin’s feet as he walked, but the chill wasn’t bitter. Just cold enough to freeze.

I memorized how it felt to have my arms wrapped around his muscular neck and shoulders. How his silky, dark hair kissed my cheek. How his earthy, clean scent engulfed my senses. I hoarded these pieces of him, intending to draw upon them later. When he was gone. When I missed him.

I asked him to keep talking and telling me stories as he walked, but I kept the why to myself—to hear his deep, comforting voice, to try and memorize that too.

Hours later, at the edge of the vast conifer-covered terrain, we saw the stunning ruins of a castle appearing to drop right off the edge of a cliff. And beyond the cliff, crystalline waters stirred beneath a soothing overcast sky.

The scent of fresh salt and musk drifted across my nostrils, and the crisp winter breeze stunned my lungs awake. I sucked in a greedy breath to get more of that sweet, enveloping air.

When I released my gasp—unintentionally close to his neck—I noticed goose bumps prickle across his skin and smiled. At least that went both ways.

“Is that…?” It was so magnificent, I felt like my breath leapt out of me. “Is this where they lived?”

“Yes.” He increased his pace.

The closer we got to the ruins, the louder the squawks of seagulls grew.

Flourishing green moss crawled up the stone walls and back down the craggy cliffside, persevering in even that tired place. Not dead, for the foundation was strong and the rooms were still framed with resilient stone. I imagined the castle one day restored to its former self, rebuilt from the ashes of its original footprint.

He let me explore the ruins but followed closely. I stopped and turned, neck craned, when I came across a cylindrical structure lined with shelves, and on the ground, tattered remnants of what those shelves once held. If there had been treasures and jewels in the castle, thieves had taken those long ago. But they’d left a few of the books, destroyed and disintegrated as they were.

“Was this their library?”

He bent down and picked up a dusty, tattered, brown leather book with the spine barely intact. “Yes.”

I grinned. “It’s just like yours.”

His answering smile heated my cheeks. “I modeled it after this one.” He carefully flipped through the few remaining crusty and yellowed pages of another book—so worn, the writing was smudged and illegible. “When I was young, these ruins were my favorite place to be alone and think.” He gestured to the cylindrical walls, suspended in time, halfway crumbled. “This room, in particular, I’m fond of.”

I could see why. If I had unlimited access to his library, it would be my favorite too.