Creatures of Light, Book 3 by Emily B. Martin

Author:Emily B. Martin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

When I woke, the room was dark. A fire burned heartily in the grate, and a covered tray sat on my bedside table. Had I slept the whole day and into the night? I slipped out of bed, my body creaking and groaning in protest, and padded to the window.

The view out to the lake revealed snow-ribbed islands under gloomy sky. A few folk moved across the grounds, wrapped so tightly in cloaks and furred hats that they looked more like animals startled from hibernation. The horizon in the west shone a pale gray. So it wasn’t fully night, then, but approaching evening—I’d slept most of the day. So much for starting diplomatic talks right away.

My gaze fell on the tray on my bedside table. My stomach growled, but before I reached for the cover, I pivoted and went across the room to Celeno’s door. Our morning conversation rang in my head, and it was with a wave of trepidation that I put my hand on the knob and turned it. What would I say if he was awake? What would he say? Should I tell him now about the petroglyphs up on the Palisades?

I should, shouldn’t I?

I slipped into his room and instantly saw that he was still asleep, his face pressed deep into his pillow. I stopped a few feet away, a little too relieved to postpone another disastrous conversation. I listened to his breathing for a moment—regular and even but with a slight rasp to it—and then turned back for the adjoining door. I tiptoed across the floor, eased it shut behind me, and went straight to the tray on my bedside table.

The cover revealed more bread, salted fish with pickled onions, and a honeyed slice of pumpkin to provide some sweetness. I devoured it all, and then went to the washbowl. The water was cold, but I splashed my face and loosened my hair from the braid I’d been traveling in. It flowed over my shoulders, crimped into waves. I changed into a fresh skirt, adjusted my star band, and then made my way out the door.

I’d expected to have to wander the hallways, hoping to bump into an attendant who might show me to Mona’s rooms, but as I stood outside my door, I heard familiar murmuring just down the hall. One of the doors to another guest room was cracked and spilling warm light. Without thinking, I headed toward it.

I realized my mistake at the same moment my knuckles struck wood. Hastily, I tried to step back, but my knock had already landed, and the hinges creaked a little wider. It was Rou’s room, and Mona was there with him. In that half a breath, I saw them each as they tried so hard not to show themselves—she with her head resting wearily on his shoulder, he with his cheek pressed against hers, his eyebrows knitted together. Their fingers were linked on the settee, and his free hand twined in the short hair at the nape of her neck.

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