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Serilda started to sit up straighter, and again Gild’s fingers flexed toward her. The movement was brief before he was pressing both of his palms into his knees instead. She looked down at his hands, noting the way his fingers were clawed, his knuckles going white.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It happened so fast. What time is it?”
“Maybe … two hours after sunset?”
“Not long then, I don’t think.”
He exhaled a long breath, some of the worry clearing from his brow. “Good. They can torture you for hours, until your heart stops. When you can’t handle any more terror, and you just sort of … give up.” He met Serilda’s eyes. “What were you thinking, going back there?”
“How do you know I’ve been there before?”
He reacted as if this was a ridiculous question. “After the Hunger Moon! When you were running for your life. Then you show up on the equinox, when the king didn’t even summon you, and head straight back to that room of horrors?”
Despite his lecture, Serilda felt her heart expand. “It was you. With the candelabra. You attacked the drude last time, too.”
“Of course it was me! Who did you think it was?”
She had thought … had even hoped. But she hadn’t been sure.
Ignoring his frustration, she asked, “How did you find me? How did you know I was there?”
Gild rocked back on his heels, withdrawing inch by inch. “I was in the gatehouse when I saw you creeping across the courtyard.” He shook his head, and he looked pained when he added, “I thought maybe you were looking for me.”
“I was!”
He scowled. Unconvinced, and rightfully so.
“I was going to,” Serilda amended. “I just thought this would be my best chance to see what’s in that room.”
“Why do you care what’s in that room?Drudesare in that room!”
“I thought the castle would be empty! Everyone was supposed to be at the feast!”
He barked a laugh. “Drudes don’t go to parties.”
“And now I know that,” she snapped, then tried to temper her irritation. If she could only make him understand. “There’s something in there. A … a tapestry.”
His expression became more bewildered. “There are hundreds of tapestries in this castle.”
“This one is different. On my side of the veil, it isn’t destroyed like everything else. And when I went in tonight … there was a cage. Did you see it?” She leaned forward. “What would the Erlking be keeping that needs a cage?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “More drudes?”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. You could have been killed. Doesn’t that matter to you?”
Something in his tone gave her pause. Something bordering on panic.
“Of course I care,” she said, quieter now. “But I also feel there’s something … important. You said you can go anywhere in this castle. Don’t you ever go in there?”
“No,” he said. “Because, again—and I cannot stress this enough—that is where the drudes are. And it is a terrible idea to cross paths with a drude. I avoid them whenever I can, and you should, too.”
She crossed her arms and pouted. She wanted to tell him she would, but the frustration from not having any questions answered, no mysteries solved, was nagging at her. “What if they’re protecting something? Something the Erlking doesn’t want anyone to find?”
Gild opened his mouth, readying another glib retort, but then he hesitated. Frowning, he closed his mouth again, considering her. Then he sighed, his gaze falling to Serilda’s hands. He shifted forward and she thought he was going to reach for her hands, take them into his. Instead, he settled his palms on the lounge cushions on either side of her knees.
Careful not to touch her.
