Page 35 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

“Caspian,” she said, shifting to grip his chin. He was so warm under her, his muscles tensed under her body. She dug her nails into his chin, feeling the silk of his beard under her fingers. “Wake up. It’s not real.”

His eyes stopped, focusing on her face. She caught the moment he jarred into consciousness, his expression softening. Caspian took a shuddering breath, blinked, and when he looked back at her, there was that usual defiance. “You keep finding reasons to climb on top of me, Finch,” he said, resigned.

Nore grimaced, choosing to ignore that. “Your fever is still raging.”

He went limp under her, relaxing back. “I suppose it is.”

Nore got up and went to rewet a cloth in the basin of water, avoiding turning her back on him completely. She returned and laid the cloth over his forehead, carefully avoiding his gaze. Nore tucked the blankets back around him, and he let her. The ship had ceased its rolling; she needed to go out and try to find him some sort of medicine.

“If I were not so ill,” Caspian said, “I’d believe you were helping me.”

“You’re no use to me dead.”

“Lucky me,” he said, eyes slipping shut. His nose wrinkled, and Nore forced herself to stop looking at his face, cataloging differences.

Nore went to her bag and found a length of cord. She sat next to Caspian on the bed, careful not to brush any part of him with her hip or thigh, and pulled the blanket down to take his wrists in her hands. She had not removed his gloves last night, so his hands—and the reminders they bore—were still covered.

“You think I could fight you?” Caspian said, incredulous, when she started binding his wrists. “Now? Like this?”

Nore let all her hate burn in her gaze. She had to focus on that rather than the memories this elicited of other times she had used cord or rope or silk to bind his skin… Or worse, what she had allowed him to do to her. She could not bear to wonder if he was thinking of the same thing. “You think I’d underestimate you, knowing what you are?”

Caspian’s gaze locked down, went black. “Of course not,” he said. “All there is between us is betrayal.”

Nore did not bother responding. She checked her knots, tugging them. He no longer had his right hand wrapped in gauze; she needed to check his injury, make sure the fever wasn’t coming from infection, but she could not bring herself to do it now.

“Are you going to die, just to spite me?” Nore asked.

Caspian’s eyes cracked open. “It could be arranged.”

“Try not to do it in the next twenty minutes.” Nore patted her chest, feeling the key under her shirt. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, tugging at his restraints as if he was ready to follow her. The knots held.

Nore did not answer. She let herself out of the room and locked the door behind her. Alone in the hall, she deflated.

Caspian Khari, in her life again. In her bed again. All the places she’d sworn he’d never again be.

Nore let her fury simmer on the walk to the infirmary, where she picked up more seasickness tablets and a tonic that would ease Caspian’s fever, and then to the mess, where she got a bag with two containers of broth, bread, and a pitcher of water.

By the time she got back to her room, she was feeling somewhat better, though she knew the feeling would not last. That was reinforced when, as soon as Nore opened the door, Caspian asked, “How is my cat?”

She nearly threw the soup at him. “He’s not your fucking cat.”

“So he’s stopped biting you?”

Nore did not answer. She unpacked her stash on the low table and poured Caspian’s soup into a mug. “I’ve called for a bath,” she snapped. “I will not leave the room, but I can do my best to give you privacy.”

“Why does it matter? You’ve seen it all before.”

Nore whirled on her heel, her chest tight. She was trying—she really was. Trying to be professional, trying to get through this mission. And yet, he was doing everything possible to remind her of who he once was, what they once were.

“You’re insufferable,” she hissed.

“Only when you’re involved.”

“I don’t like this, either,” Nore seethed. “You think I want to work with you? I don’t, Caspian. If you think I asked for you, or put you up for this, then you’re wrong.”

“I know that now,” Caspian said. He tried to raise a hand, probably to brush through his hair, as he always did when he was frustrated. But he was bound—Caspian aborted the action halfway through with a miserable sigh. “And I know it infuriates you that she trapped me here, with you, without consulting you.”