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“So this is Avallen,” Lidia said, breaking the awkward silence.
“I know,” Bryce muttered. “I’m trying to scrape my jaw off the floor.”
“It reminds me of my father’s house,” Lidia said quietly, digging into her potatoes and mutton. Hearty, simple food. Definitely not the fine feast Morven and his court were indulging in elsewhere.
“They must both have a subscription to Medieval Living,” Bryce said, and Lidia’s mouth curved toward a smile.
It was so weird to see the Hind smile. Like a person.
The males must have been thinking the same thing, because Baxian asked, “How long, Lidia? How long since you turned spy?”
Lidia gracefully carved her meat. “How long since you started believing in the cause?”
“Since I met my mate, Danika Fendyr. Four years ago.”
Bryce’s chest ached at the pride in his voice—and the pain. Her fingers itched with the urge to reach across the table to take his hand, just as she had last night.
But Lidia blinked slowly. And said softly, “I’m sorry, Baxian.”
Baxian nodded in acknowledgment. Then said to Lidia and Hunt, “I kind of can’t get over being here with the two of you. Considering where we were not that long ago. Who we were.”
“I bet,” Bryce murmured.
Hunt tested the edge of a knife with his thumb, then cut into his own meat. “Urd works in mysterious ways, I guess.”
Lidia’s eyes glimmered. Hunt lifted his glass of water to her. “Thanks for saving our asses.”
“It was nothing,” she replied, slicing into the mutton again.
Baxian put down his fork. “You put everything on the line. We owe you.”
Bryce glanced down the table and noticed Ruhn watching them. She gave him a pointed glance, as if to say, Chime in, asshole, but Ruhn ignored her.
Lidia’s mouth kicked into a half smile. “Find a way to kill the Asteri, and we’re even.”
The rest of dinner was mostly quiet, and Bryce found herself growing weary enough that by the time she’d finished her plate, she just wanted to lie down somewhere. Thankfully, one person in the castle deigned to engage with them: an older Fae woman who gruffly said she’d show them to their rooms.
Even if they weren’t welcome, at least they were given decent accommodations, all along the same hall. Bryce didn’t really mark who bunked with whom, focusing solely on being shown to her own room, but she didn’t fail to notice the awkward beat when Tharion and Sathia were shown through a door together halfway down the hall.
Bryce sighed once she and Hunt entered their own chamber. She wished she’d had the energy to talk to Ruhn, to really delve into what it had been like for him here, what he was feeling, but …
“I need to lie down,” Bryce said, and slumped face-first onto the bed.
“Today was weird,” Hunt said, helping to remove her sheathed sword and dagger. He placed them with expert care at the side of the bed, then gently turned her over. “You all right?”
Bryce peered up into his face—the halo on his brow. “I really hope we find something here to make it worthwhile.”
Hunt sat beside her, removing his own weapons and setting them on a side table. “You’re suddenly worried we won’t?”
Bryce got to her feet, unable to sit still despite her exhaustion. She paced in front of the crackling fire. “I don’t know. It’s not like I was expecting a giant neon sign in the archives that said Answers Here! But if the Asteri are going after Flynn’s family …” She hadn’t let herself think about it earlier. There was nothing she could do from here, without phone or interweb service. “Then they’re going after mine.”
“Randall and Ember can look after themselves.” But Hunt rose, walking to her and taking her hands. “They’ll be okay.” His hands were warm around hers, solid. She closed her eyes at the touch, savoring its love and comfort. “We’ll get there, Quinlan. You traveled between worlds, for fuck’s sake. This is nothing by comparison.”
“Don’t tempt Urd.”
“I’m not. I’m just telling you the truth. Don’t lose faith now.”
Bryce sighed, examining his tattooed brow again. “We need to find some way to get this off you.”
