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“Of course,” Tinsley said. “If there’s anything I can do…”
Aric continued toward the stairs. “I’m not to be disturbed.” He expected a call from Cecilia or Viveca later the following day, or the day after, and he would likely be called upon once word of the Lamont arrest spread around. He would field all of those interruptions as he needed to. Rochelle was his priority, whether she woke up in a handful of minutes or not until midday.
He set her gently on her bed and pulled the comforter to her shoulders before lowering himself to sit beside her on the floor. She was safe. She was fine. Or as fine as he could make her, at least. Any remaining work she would have to put effort into.
Aric blew out a breath and tipped his head back. He’d searched for hours before he’d finally caught whisper of a trail along the eastern mountain range. She’d been halfway across the kingdom from where she should have been. He wouldn’t have looked there if not for some nagging instinct in the form of her voice. He’d long believed he was the only one with the ability to travel such vast distances so quickly. Not that the impossibility of it mattered in the moment. She’d been so badly hurt… He could easily have lost her.
His hands curled into fists as an old, dusty memory rose from the treacherous, forbidden recesses of his mind. That would have made her the second woman he cared for that he lost, despite all his vaunted power. The second woman he’d have lost to the damnable eastern mountain range.
Trisha’s death had been a tragic accident. The fault of negligent supervision at most. He understood that. He’d long come to terms with that. They all had.
What had happened—and nearly happened—to Rochelle in that cave, however, that was different. That was malicious. He may not yet know who or why, but no one could hide from him forever.
Aric glanced over at Rochelle’s peacefully sleeping, tear-stained face. Thankfully, it was no longer partially shredded or covered in blood. He wished he could justify taking that memory from her.I will find him, and I will break him. I will see that he suffers for what he did to you.Aric kept the vow to himself, lest the sound of his voice disturb her rest.
Chapter Eleven
Rochelle jerked awake to the memory of blazing hot fire searing across her foot. She sucked in ragged lungfuls of air and blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision, but it was dark. Though not as dark as the cave.
“It’s all right,” Aric said, his voice soothing. The bed dipped at her side and a hand—Aric’s hand—settled lightly over her shoulder. “You’re safe. I promise.”
Her mouth was already dry, and she had to close it before she could swallow, before she could get her breathing under control. She realized then that her nose was working and she was sitting in a comfortable, cozy bed with what felt like a blanket pooled in her lap. The fragments of light she could see appeared to be sunlight pushing at the edges of the blackout drapes covering a large window to her right. Her eyesight was already adjusting and, with another, easier, breath, she also realized her magic was there. Simmering beneath the surface as it was supposed to be.
“Are we home?” she asked quietly after taking a moment to absorb the familiar shapes and edges within the room, the familiar positioning of the large window. She hadn’t yet spent a night in the room at the Seaside Sleeper, it wouldn’t strike her the same.
Aric gave her shoulder a squeeze and removed his hand, but his always at least slightly glowing gaze never turned away. “We are. It’s only been a few hours. You’re safe to sleep longer if you want. I won’t leave you.”
She hesitated with her response. She did feel a little tired, but she suspected she’d been awake and enduring some level of psychotic torture-fringed interrogation most of the night, so that was to be expected. However, her memory was clearing rapidly as she stabilized, and she knew Aric had healed her. She remembered collapsing on him in a rush of relief, exhaustion, and fleeing terror.That’s embarrassing.And she remembered a couple of other critical things, too.
Rochelle shook her head, sure he could see the subtle motion, and said, “I can sleep later. There are things you need to know.” Even if she did worry how he’d react to one of them. For that matter, was she taking for granted how he’d react to the other?
Aric lowered a hand to rest over hers where they had curled on top of the blanket in her lap. “Are you sure? My questions can wait until you’re up for it.”
She smiled a little at his concern. “I was distracted,” she said, trying to reflect as she spoke. “The cave was rigged with some kind of trap, I think. But it looked like Denham got away.”
Aric’s hand twitched and his eyes narrowed faintly. It was harder to see his scowl in the poor lighting, but she heard it in his voice. “Denham? Your abductor was Prince Denham?”
She wasn’t honestly sure if she was grateful or disappointed with the confirmation that he hadn’t already learned as much. “Yes,” she said in a whisper. “It was dark in the cave and he tried to deny it, but he got right in my face. A few times. I remember his cruel eyes and the sound of his voice from the way he unnerved me before.”
“Hm.” Aric tipped her face up with a finger beneath her chin and stared into her eyes. His own glowed brighter and when she reflexively attempted to duck her gaze, he pressed his thumb against the edge of her jaw. He held her in place without pain or other restraint. “Your magic should have been thoroughly sealed by the binding rope,” he said. “Yet you’re sure you saw through his shrouded disguise? When even I couldn’t?”
Her eyes widened. Denham had been wearing some kind of magical disguise? Was that why he tried dissuading her when she had called him out? She licked her lips. Aric wouldn’t be lying about this. She believed that in her gut. Which meant that he hadn’t been able to see through the disguise of her captor—at least not within the time he’d had the option—and yet she had. Effortlessly.
“It’s possible you have some passive talent we’ve never recognized,” Aric said. He released her chin and the wall-mounted torches of the room finally lit, offering some relief to the midday darkness. It was an odd choice compared to opening the drapery, unless he felt compelled to maintain maximum privacy. “When I assessed your potential in the beginning, I was looking for overall potential. I could easily have missed this sort of rare passive magic.”
Rochelle blinked at him. “Passive magic?”
His lips twitched in a grin. “For example, I’ve never met a language I can’t communicate in, whether it’s spoken or written. As soon as I hear or lay eyes on it, I comprehend it. I don’t have to exert effort to respond in kind or hold a full conversation—it happens as naturally as if it were my native tongue. I wasn’t even aware of this magic until a pair of foreign students came to study at our school and I saw my classmates struggling to communicate with them, and my professors using active spells to translate. To my ears, everyone was speaking the same words.” He chuckled. “It was rather funny from that perspective.”
Rochelle did her best not to gape at him. He hadn’t specified which year that had happened, but it most certainly hadn’t been portrayed in the anime! She hadn’t given a thought to language barriers. From the show’s perspective, of course, everyone spoke Japanese—that was standard. She swallowed hard and tried orienting her thought process once more. It was unlikely, then, that in the reality version of this world everyone actually spoke English, so she asked the most logical question she could think of. “D-do they speak a different language … in Zrynia?”
Aric arched a brow for a moment before a slow and frustratingly sexy smirk lifted his lips. “Yes. It’s more similar to the language spoken in Kachek than what we speak here in Yafae. Or so I’m told.”
Her head spun and she pressed a palm to her forehead for a second. “I didn’t even realize…”
Aric laughed, the sound a low, throaty chuckle that rumbled across the space between them. He eased her hand from her face, cupped her cheek, and drew her in for a slow, deep kiss. He laced the fingers of their entwined hands together as his tongue swept through her mouth, drawing a whimpering moan from some invisible place inside her. He sucked on her tongue and kissed her hard until she thought she might faint, and then he released her lips, the quietest groan following in his wake.
She struggled to catch her breath and clung to his hand as she attempted to gather herself.
