Page 87 of A Spark So Bright
Rose learning how to let others touch her. Rose being able to not only save them but also to talk with the dead. There were many things here that were new to Ragnar, and to all of them.
"We have to let her grow," Gunnar said. "I know we all want to protect her and keep her safe after everything that happened. Trust me, I know more than most. She talks to me now. She tells me what she wants out of life and how she's feeling. Hell, I even saw her laugh once, and that's something I never thought I'd see."
"She laughed?"
Gunnar nodded, feeling the same glow in his chest that he felt when it had happened. "I cannot explain it, but she is trying. She's stepped back into the realm of the living and brought with her a legion of the dead that we can use to our own devices. She speaks for them. The ancestors are with us, Ragnar, and they have much to say."
His brother blew out a long breath and let his hands drop limp to his sides. "This is a lot to take in."
"You're not kidding. You should have seen my face when she made me use my magic along with hers. I can make them..." Gunnar flapped a hand in the air. "Real. Or at least sort of real. People can see them."
"You can make it so that people can see the dead? Not just her?"
The more Gunnar thought about it, the more miserable he became. He hated that he was capable of doing any of it. It was weird and unfortunately he didn't like it. But also he kind of did. If he could find the spirit of those who were lost, they would know where their own bodies were.
He could bring so many people home.
Gunnar groped for a chair, yanked it out, and sat down into it. Ragnar did the same. And soon enough, the two brothers werelooking like they had been run through with a sword as they stared at nothing on the table.
"What do we do now?" Ragnar asked.
"We tell no one what happened. The king would have my head for it." Gunnar flinched forward like someone had pinched him. "Who else knows?"
All the blood drained from Ragnar's face. "The prince. He’s the one who told us."
"The prince knows?"
Ragnar nodded solemnly.
"Shit," Gunnar grumbled. That was precisely the last person he ever wanted to find out about his biggest blunder. "That fucking prince."
Thirty-Four
Rose
The garden was awfully boring, as she’d expected. Rose had tried to get Maia to lurk and wait for their men to come out of the war room, but Maia hadn’t been interested in waiting. Instead, she’d dragged Rose out to the garden and put her to work.
Usually Rose didn't mind. She liked the garden and the plants that always seemed to reach for her hands when Maia was nearby. Her magic gave them far more life than most plants, turning them from greenery into something almost like pets.
But she grew bored with it soon enough and headed back to the barracks. It wasn't as if anyone could stop her. Rose just pretended to go a little cross-eyed and suddenly she could wander wherever she wanted. Mad, looney Rose. No one knew how to stop her from heading off into the distance, but no one seemed like they wanted to stop her, either.
She tried to find Gunnar, but he was nowhere to be found. Either Ragnar had offed him, or the brothers had made up and they were going somewhere with purpose.
Still, she didn't like it.
So she'd wandered through the castle for a little while. It was such a big place. No one was here at this time of day, so she meandered until it got dark.
Rose slept without him, feeling like the bed was a little too cold for her comfort. She hated that feeling. It was unnatural for her to even consider missing having a man in her bed, and yet... she did. She missed the touch of his skin against hers. She missed the way he shifted in his sleep and always reached for her.
She wanted to know what it would be like to be touched by him. More. More than just a casual brush of his arm against hers, and certainly more than the kisses they had given each other.
But how did she ask for that? He knew her history. He knew where she had come from and what had been done to her.
Some part of her still feared that he would see her as dirty, or even worse, too fragile to consider a relationship beyond what they had. Would he even want her for the rest of their lives if she couldn't give him what wives were meant to give their husbands?
It was those thoughts that plagued her all night until there was a knock at her door. She launched out of bed to open the door, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from lack of sleep. Rose hoped it was Gunnar so she could voice these concerns, but also knew the moment she saw him those words were going to dry up. She didn't know how to talk to men, and she certainly didn't know how to tell him that she wasn't too broken to try sex.
Except it wasn't Gunnar at her door.
