Page 103 of Reap & Sow

Kit’s grip slackened. His arm retreated from around her. Between one heartbeat and the next, his visage changed and he became mortal again—even his eyes. He sat upright and raked a hand through his hair.

Eda frowned. Had her brazen study offended him? She’d seen his true face many times already, knew it well enough to be unafraid.

Unless it isn’t me he’s hiding from.

It seemed startlingly obvious suddenly. His eagerness to show her the theater, his apartment stuffed full of art and clothes and beautiful things. The look on his face as he watched the sunset over Blackbridge. Eda thought back to that conversation, when they’d first ventured into the city together. He’d spoken briefly of how the human world had been a comfort to him growing up. I’d walk down dirty human streets and pretend. His meaning was clearer now than ever.

Kit wished to be human, whether he’d admit it or not.

He was hiding from himself.

“Food, I think.” He rolled to his feet, pensive look swept away. “You mortals need to eat constantly, don’t you?”

Eda stared at him. All that fae-like beauty, all that power…did it truly mean so little to him? “I suppose. What time is it?”

“Past luncheon.”

“Oh. I am quite hungry.”

“Of course you are, poor thing.”

Kit went foraging for food while she explored the rest of the room, hoping to find some sort of brush or comb for her hair. The dresser was empty but for a lavender bag and a little vial of what smelled like rosemary oil. There was a round tub behind a filigreed privacy screen, however, and she nearly bounced in excitement. Eda was desperate for a good wash. She’d never used a real bath before; standing basin and cloth were the only way she knew. But this house had a real wooden tub with linens on the side.

She scurried across the wide landing from room to room in excitement. There were two large buckets in the servants’ quarters, and a basic comb as well. Thrilled with her spoils, Eda set about relighting the fire. It was a relief to busy herself with such a mundane task. She did not wish to think of the outside world. In here, she could almost pretend it didn’t exist.

By the time Kit returned with an armful of food inside a makeshift bag, the fire was roaring admirably. He blinked at her as she gathered her buckets. “Is this some sort of chambermaid role-play?”

“Hush,” she scolded. “I’m having a bath. And no, you are not invited.”

“Not even after bringing you this?” He unwrapped the linen onto the rug. He’d found a selection of bread, cheese, figs, and even two apples. A small bottle of dessert wine completed the meal.

Eda gawped. “Where did you get this? There can’t have been fresh food in the root cellar.”

“The neighbor’s house. Their kitchen door was open.”

“You stole it? Someone could have seen you!”

“They saw a cat. Chased me out through the house. I circled back and took a few things is all. It’s not as if the flush bastards will miss it.”

Eda realized she might be at fault for his smugness. She really had to stop exclaiming over his every trick. What else might he do for me?

Coyly, she made a show of heaving the buckets in each hand. “Very industrious of you. There’s a well outside, I trust? I have to fill these up for the bath. It may take me a while, heavy as they are…”

“Please. I’m not some demonic serving boy, ready to prostrate myself to save your weak little arms.”

“You’re really going to make me fill them myself?” She lowered her voice. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can bathe.”

He glared at her, hand on hip. Suddenly he hissed and snatched the buckets. “I’m filling these up because I want to, understand? It would be painful, watching you trip and spill water all over such fine hardwood floors.”

Eda nodded. He slunk away with a grumble. Kit made short work of filling the buckets, and even found another by the well outside. They left all three by the fire to warm and sat together on the rug to eat. He contented himself with gnawing on an apple while Eda practically inhaled the rest. Something warm bloomed in her chest as she watched him, reclining there on his elbow like a prince among silks. Kit was cavalier as always, commenting on her appalling table manners and her shocking arrogance in using him like her personal errand boy, but there was no heat in it. He sounded fond.

He shoved the last of the figs toward her.

The warmth inside her spread.

Despite the much-needed reprieve from reality, Eda found her mind inexorably turning back to Tenelle and the Clerics’ Conclave.

“Without Lich’s mirror, Mr. Night would be trapped here,” she mused. “Wouldn’t he?”