Page 75 of Down Comes the Night

Alive,the heat seemed to remind her.You’re alive.

She groaned softly at the unpleasant reality of that. A dull pain still throbbed in the back of her skull, and all her joints were swollen from overexertion. As she rubbed at her eyes and readjusted to consciousness, she realized she was nestled in a blanket. Deep exhaustion had crystallized in her bones, and she swore she would never be able to scrape the chill out from beneath her skin.

Or the guilt.

She rolled over and found Hal already awake, propped up by a few pillows he’d pulled off the bed. In the glow of the flames, he looked like an oil painting, achingly pretty and textured. Wren reached out to touch him, to check his vitals, but Hal shifted away from her.

“Don’t.” He sounded tired but sure.

As much as it stung, she deserved his distrust. “You should have left me there and saved yourself.”

“Perhaps.” Firelight danced in his eyes. “Am I still your prisoner?”

“Yes. So answer me this. Why’d you do it? Why’d you save me?”

“My life for yours.” He sounded so formal, as if there’d never been anything at all between them. “My debt to you is paid.”

“There’s no debt you owe me.” She couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice. “If anything, I’m still in yours. You spared me once already.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You said you don’t remember, but I do. That day at the Battle of the River Muri, you saw me. I was healing a woman in a birch thicket when someone attacked you. You killed him, and I thought you would come for me next. But you didn’t. You just walked away.” Wren drew her knees up to her chin. “I’ve wondered about it ever since.”

“I’d given up by then,” he said gently. “I wouldn’t have attacked you first.”

Wren wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “Maybe you should’ve. I only healed you so you would survive when I kidnappedyou. That’s the full truth. So there. Now you know I’m selfish and cruel. You surely regret saving me now.”

“I’ve seen cruelty. You’re not cruel. You’re only afraid.”

“What would you know?”

He didn’t answer her.How typical.Were they truly back to this? Back to strained silences and fighting? And yet even now, Hal Cavendish was kinder to her than she deserved. Kinder than she was to herself—and far kinder than she was to him.

Her satchel filled with all her supplies lay within reach. She grabbed it, appreciative of the warmed leather in her cold hands, and rummaged until she found a flask filled to its stopper with brandy. She wasn’t sure if she craved it for its throat-burning heat or for distraction, but she drank and passed it to Hal.

He sniffed it cautiously and made a face.

“It’s not drugged,” she said bitterly. “Just drink it. It’ll help.”

They both rose on unsteady feet. While she pulled her stiff, wet hair out of its chignon, he took a swig of brandy and leaned against the wall. Seeing him here, watching her as he always did, set her aflame with indignation that she didn’t entirely understand.

“What have I done to upset you now?” he asked.

Wren closed the gap between them and shoved him. He hardly budged, which only made her burn hotter with annoyance. Becauseof courseshe couldn’t move him, even now when she’d nearly killed him.

“You saved me.” With every word, she beat her fists against his chest. “I’m your enemy. I tried to kidnap you. You’re Hal Cavendish, the most calculating and logical person I’ve ever met. This is illogical. This was the wrong decision—so obviously! How could you be so self-destructive, so—”

“Emotional?” Hal grabbed her wrists, only hard enough to remind her to stop hitting him. His hands were wind-chapped and callus-rough. And so, so cold. He smiled, but it was an unkind one. “Is that still what you believe? That I feel nothing at all?”

Emotional.

The word singed. Made her want to cry for reasons she couldn’texactly place. It was confusion and longing and hope all snared up.Your compassion will get you killed,Una had told her. For so long, everyone had drilled it into her. Kindness and compassion had no place in the Queen’s Guard. But Hal’s kindness had saved her tonight, and Wren didn’t know how to make sense of it.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Emotional.”

Hal let her go. Her skin stung from the sudden loss of him. While the glow of the hearth still stained his eyes orange, the fire in them had gone out. The flickering shadows sharpened the dark circles beneath his eyes, the edges of his cheekbones.

“You must be tired,” she said.