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I sat up slowly, my body aching like I’d just fought off an ogre. I was in a comfortable bed—the first since we’d left Centos. There were even four tastefully decorated walls around us and a window that let in the glow of a sinking sun.
So not Astridon or Centos then.
“I think so.” I answered the big, worried man who waited inches from me. “She was passed out inside, too. This whole sharing a body situation is new, and I admit I don’t understand the logistics. But it feels like it does after Father drains my magic, and I always recover from that, no matter how long it takes. Is Torvo all right? Your sister?” I glanced at the room behind him. “Are we in Tromodia?”
Rivven looked around us like he’d been too worried about Nyah to have any idea where we were, which did nothing to assuage my concern. But he nodded. “Yes, to all.”
We’d made it, then. At least this far. I sighed with relief, falling back against the soft down beneath me. Outside, the beat of music thrummed, and the sounds of laughter and merriment floated up into the room. The bed I lay on was large enough for two, and I hoped I wasn’t supposed to share with Rivven, even if he was being nice at the moment.
“We are safe for now,” he said, releasing my hand and rising to his full height. “We’re at a friend’s…place. The Shipwreck Tavern and Inn. We were given several rooms on the top floor. You, uh, can share with Torvo. I will stay with my sister. I’m sure Torvo would prefer that to being with Devira. She hasn’t exactly been pleasant company.” He grimaced.
I understood that. But we’d already made some strides forward, and I was determined to set things right with her. She would see eventually that I was a friend. If Rivven could learn to not hate me, then she could, too.
“I take it the dragon helped?” I probed, curling onto my side and giving in to the comfort of the soft bed. There was no need to force myself up yet. I wasn’t much for parties, and it sounded like there was a celebration downstairs. Probably about us making it through. I was glad Nyah had been able to help.
“Yes,” Rivven’s voice was tight, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Thank you. I should probably tell you that Hymer did not make it.”
The news stunned me, stealing my breath for a few seconds as it sank in. I hadn’t known the man well, but he’d sacrificed his life for us, for freedom. I glanced toward the door, wondering how everyone could be celebrating with his death so fresh.
Rivven sighed heavily, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. “This isn’t just an Inn,” he admitted. “This is a brothel.”
Oh. It was that kind of celebrating, then. I couldn’t stop the flush that warmed my cheeks, so I averted my eyes. “Okay, then.” What was I supposed to say? If we were safe, and the people who ran this place were friends, then so be it.
“I’ll uh, get Torvo.” Rivven shuffled awkwardly toward the door. He slipped out quickly, shutting it behind him, but not before the outside noise swelled, echoing through the small room.
Near the door was a vanity and a gilded mirror with an ornate frame. A dresser sat along the far wall near the window, which was framed with yellow checkered curtains. A thick gold rug covered most of the worn floorboards. The bed I occupied had four intricately carved posts, and I lay beneath blue and yellow blankets. To the other side of the room was a tall mirror and another door that presumably led to the bathroom.
I was debating whether to pry myself up and fill a bath when a knock sounded at the door. It was a familiar pattern that brought a big grin to my face and made my heart pound. It was the knock Torvo has used in the castle to let me know it was him. Seconds later, the sounds from below swelled again as he opened the door and peered around the side. He slipped in, having to physically duck to avoid hitting his head on the frame, then shut out the rest of the world.
“Hello, Princess.”
“Hi.” I sat up, sliding back against the pillows I’d propped behind me. The blankets fell down to my waist, and I realized all at once that I was clad in only a thin shift. I squeaked as I gathered the covers back up, clutching them to my chest. Torvo approached, eyes locked with mine instead of lingering on my embarrassment.
“We were all quite the mess when we arrived,” he said apologetically. “Sharlyne was the one to help clean you up, so please don’t worry. Lou offered clothing, but what she had was too complicated to get on you easily, and we decided to wait for the rest until you could do it yourself.”
“Sharlyne? Is that Rivven’s sister?” I asked, curiosity replacing bashfulness. I patted the mattress beside me, scooting over a bit so he could sit. To my gratification, he sat beside me, above the covers, but snuggled close and rested an arm around my shoulders, tugging me against him.
“Yes. She is a seer and half-elf.”
“Interesting,” I said, curling against his side. “So, our rescue of Sharlyne was successful, But we lost Hymer. And we’re in a brothel in Tromodia. What else happened?”
“It appears you are caught up.” Torvo smiled down at me, eyes sparkling as much as his silver hair, which flowed loose over his massive shoulders. The light from the sinking sun hit the side of his face and made the silver shine beautifully.
“You smell good,” I said, inhaling deeply and reaching an arm around the front of him.
He laughed, jiggling us both. “So do you, Princess.”
“I wish I could’ve helped more with the battle.” I wanted to fight like Nyah did. But I wasn’t trained like she was. Nor could I control a dragon that had bonded with her. It seemed it wouldn’t be as easy as I’d hoped to be the fighter I longed to be.
Torvo cupped my face, then ran his fingers through my soft, white locks. I sighed contentedly, feeling better already.
“You did help,” he said, surprising me. “If you hadn’t sent Nyah when you did, we would all be in the dungeons.”
I scowled. Of course it was just sending Nye that helped.
“Sometimes knowing when to sacrifice your own desires is the best help you can give.” The wisdom of those words settled deep, calming me.
He leaned down and dropped a kiss onto my forehead.