Lady of Weeds by W.R. Gingell

Author:W.R. Gingell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy romance, clean romance, selkie, selkies
Publisher: W.R. Gingell

Carys half expected to find Eurion waiting for her outside when she returned. He wasn’t, nor was he waiting inside the door to greet her with that almost puppy level of enthusiasm he had been wont to show. Instead, he sat in front of the fire with the quilt piled around him.

Carys frowned a little. Was he sickening again? But he still smiled when she looked across at him, and he didn’t seem to be dispirited though he was certainly quieter.

She fetched him an extra blanket just in case, and dropped it by him on her way back to the kitchen to make tea for them both, but it occurred to her that he could be sulking because she had walked to the village with Aled and left him at home.

He didn’t pester her with questions while she made the tea, either; he simply gazed into the fire without speaking, and took the cup of tea she brought him with a bright smile of thanks.

Carys sat beside Eurion slowly and thoughtfully, stretching her salt-stiff trews as she sat. He turned his head to look at her and then settled his chin to look into the fire instead. Carys sipped her tea, watching him over her cup of tea, and decided that he wasn’t sulking.

Besides, he had been more inclined to be standoffish over the last couple of days in general. He was cheerful enough; he just wasn’t as talkative as usual.

Nor, she noticed the next day when she got back from the seashore, did he try to throw his arms around her or give her any other welcome than a bright smile.

He hadn’t done that, in fact, for nearly a week now. It was part of the cooling she had noticed over the last few days, if she didn’t take into account their time in the alcove. He didn’t try to sit too close to her by the fire that night, either, though the night was cold.

Carys wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders though the fire was hot. She could hear the soft hiss of sleet against the roof, and it must have been the sound of it that made her feel cold to the bone and unwilling to move from her place by the fire. It didn’t seem to affect Eurion—he simply wrapped the extra blanket she’d left for him around his shoulders and gazed quietly into the fire, shadows and light dancing across his face.

He didn’t even open his eyes the next morning when she left for the seashore, though Carys was less sure today that he was pretending to be asleep. She cooked an omelette for his lunch, preparing for a later than usual morning on the shore, and wondered if he was beginning to grow out of that early infatuation of his.

If so, it was a good thing. Carys tied her shawl tight and grimly tucked in the ends of it. It was a bitter morning—bitterly cold, bitterly wet, the wind a bitter, sobbing thing around the eaves.

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