AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I suppose it’s for your benefit that you arrived early,” he continued. “More time to complete your work.”
“Was he hoping I would fail?”
“I think not. His Grim is”—he searched for the word, before finishing dryly—“an optimist.”
It almost sounded like a joke.
“Do you require anything more?”
An extra week,Serilda wanted to say. But she shook her head. “Only peace to do my work.”
He bowed and left the room. Serilda listened for the turn of the lock, then faced the straw and the spinning wheel, hands planted on her hips. This was the first room she’d been brought to that had windows, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it might have been used for before it was converted into her prison. There were a few scarce pieces of furniture that had been pushed up against the walls to make room for the straw—a blue velvet settee, a couple of high-backed chairs, a desk. Perhaps it had been a study or a parlor, but with the lack of decoration on the walls, she assumed it had not been put to much use in a long time.
Inhaling a long breath, Serilda laced her fingers and started to pacenervously as she spoke to the empty air. “Gild, you’re not going to like this.”
Chapter 37
One moment the air was empty.
The next, Gild was there, mere inches in front of her.
Serilda collided into him with a yelp. She stumbled backward—her hands instinctively grabbing for his shoulders—and pulled him back with her. They both fell, Serilda landing on her back on the pile of straw. Gild landed on top of her with a grunt, his chin smacking her shoulder, making his teeth crack loudly near her ear. His knee struck her hip, as he barely managed to keep from crushing her under his weight.
Serilda lay in the straw, disoriented and breathless, a dull pain thrumming in her backside.
Gild pushed himself up with one hand and rubbed his chin, grimacing.
“Still alive,” moaned Serilda, copying Anna’s favorite phrase.
“Makes one of us,” Gild said. He met her gaze, laughter in his eyes. “Hello again.”
Then he glanced down, to where Serilda’s hands were caught between their bodies. Her hands, entirely of their own mind, were pressed against his chest. Not pushing him away.
Color burst across his face. “Sorry,” he said, pulling back.
As soon as he did, a sharp pain burned across Serilda’s scalp. She cried out, leaning toward him. “Stop, stop! My hair!”
Gild froze. A lock of Serilda’s long hair had caught on the button of his shirt’s collar. “How did that happen?”
“Meddlesome elves, no doubt,” said Serilda, trying to shuffle into a better position where she could start untangling the hair, bit by bit.
“They’re the worst.”
Serilda paused in her work to meet his eyes, catching the silent humor glittering in them. This close, in this light, she could see that they were the color of warm amber.
“Hello again,” he said quietly.
The most innocent of words.
Spoken quite un-innocently.
A second later, he was no longer the only one blushing.
“Hello again,” she responded, suddenly bashful.
Serilda might have spent hours this past week dreaming about seeing him again or, to be more accurate, kissing him again, but she didn’t know if her expectations were realistic.
Their relationship was … odd.
