Page 29 of Forge the Blade

Within minutes, what he felt most was tired. It was that stage of recovery. Everything turned inward. Beyond a sense of shame and fragility, all he wanted to do was be left to his rules and his silence and to stay small and unobserved until his bones no longer hurt, the muscles around his lungs were no longer tender, and his ankle was steady.

Before the shower was over, the weariness was so large that it felt like illness. All his energy seemed to run down the drain with the soap and the water.

A towel enveloped him and he swayed, off balance. A strong, slender arm wrapped around his waist and moved him towards the bathroom door. “Couch,” Ellisandre said.

Rei tripped over the door jam. Ellisandre kept him upright, then swept his legs up, carrying him like a child out of the hallway and into the living room. Head swimming, eyes closed, he was just there for the ride. They laid him down, his head on a pile of pillows. Looking for comfort, he drew the large towel in around himself and pulled up his knees.

Sevastyan limped over. Today his bruises appeared worse than yesterday. Like Rei, the injuries were catching up with him, the adrenaline entirely gone.

“Sit, finish eating,” Ellisandre said. “I’ll check on the fox.”

“His name is Lisa,” Sevastyan grunted, lowering himself down to the floor beside Rei.

“I thought that was a moniker,” Ellisandre countered. “Just Russian for fox.”

“Moniker and the only name he has,” Sevastyan said. “So call him by his name.”

Ellisandre and Sevastyan’s eyes met and locked for a second. Ellisandre dipped their head. “Lisa, then.” They went into the bedroom.

The presence of his master, just quietly there, was all Rei needed. He closed his eyes and fell asleep wrapped in the towel.

Ellisandre

It felt wrong to leave, but there was a world outside the Bolthole, appearances to keep up, other people to be looked after. Ellisandre made sure that breakfast was disseminated, if not yet eaten—Rei was asleep again—and all bandages and bathing done, then tore themselves away. There was, at least, the tingling sense of satisfaction in closing the door behind them, knowing they were locking their boy inside. Their boy and his boys, more of a package than they’d imagined, but it wasn’t a disappointment; Sevastyan had slept in the Bolthole. He was resting against their pillows, eating their food. Him having more people just meant more for them to look after.

And now they were becoming a cave person. Next thing they knew, they were going to drag a moose carcass home and serve it up as proof they could protect and provide. Or just shackle Sevastyan to the wall now that his secrets had been revealed. Lisa and Rei could bring him everything he needed, and then Ellisandre would know for sure that Sevastyan was going nowhere.

It was fantasy, all fantasy. In reality, they had many, many more days in front of them when they would not know if Sevastyan would be coming back or not.

Their shoulders fell at the thought. Such thoughts were wasteful. And not helpful. They lifted their chin and ruthlessly shoved the feeling aside. Sevastyan was theirs. They’d lost him once, and they would not lose him again. The Merchari would burn first. Well, the Merchari were going to burn anyway, but the faster the better.

Ellisandre made it back to their apartment. It was empty, Ash having already left for work at Richard’s office. They changed clothes and then reviewed their calendar while drinking coffee standing at the kitchen counter. There were meetings to prep for, training to take Tristan through so he could cover more of their role in the office while they were distracted for the next few months, and a check-in with their accountant to keep. And then after that, they needed to meet up with Jun and his group members. The K-pop group was preparing for their first comeback post escaping their label, which was a legal nightmare that had not been finalized, but even so, they were going forward with taping their first song, and that meant costumes. Naturally, Damian had suggested Ellisandre and now they were teaming up on the concept together.

Costuming someone besides themselves or Linda was oddly exciting. Before Ash had landed in their life last fall, they hadn’t really considered using their flair for clothes for anyone other than themselves, and sometimes dragging Linda out of her conservative wardrobe choices. Buying suits for Tristan did not count. Anyone could dress Tristan better than Tristan. Although he appeared to be starting to get the feel of it. He’d even shown up with a professional-grade haircut and properly applied mousse the previous week. Would wonders never cease. If he showed up with a pocket square, someone was going to have to buy champagne for the office.

They swallowed the last of their coffee, mentally planning to buy more at one of their favorite cafes on the way to the office, and packed up their bag.

For the next twelve hours, they would be public Ellisandre, not Sevastyan’s goddex, not an assassin, not a secret agent for Interpol. Just Ellisandre, Linda’s incomparable shadow and protector.

An ache settled into Ellisandre’s throat. Lying didn’t usually feel this uncomfortable.

Ellisandre

Linda shut the door to her office as soon as Ellisandre swept in. Then she threw the lock and closed the blinds over the glass wall. “Where have you been?”

Ellisandre dropped their coat over the back of the guest chair in front of Linda’s desk and set down their bag. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Linda raised both eyebrows and her chin. So, it was going to be one of those conversations. That was Linda’s “I’m willing to have a fight” pose.

“I sent Ash over to make dinner. And you were out last night at that banquet.”

“And you were not home, nor at the banquet,” Linda poked Ellisandre just below their collarbone. “I was worried.”

“I texted.”

“Yes, but you didn’t call.”

“I was busy.”