Page 55
Story: The Ballad of a Bard
He was avoiding her, that much was sure.
Cobalt finished the last slice and went to wipe his hands on his green tunic. She hastily grabbed them before he even had the chance to reach for it.
“Don’t be absurd.” She scolded and handed him the cloth napkin instead. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she did the same. Then she wiped the sticky corners of his mouth with a little bit of water and set the napkin aside.
“Maybe he needed some time.”
“Time for what?” She quirked a brow up.
He eyed the tray, searching for more sweets. “To think about his obvious feelings for you.”
When Cobalt found none, she playfully twisted the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. He winced, rubbed at them and shuffled to the very end of the bed.
Away from her.
“That’s not going to save you, you know.” Crimson tsked. “I could just as easily attack from here.”
“It’s not fair. You’re grown. I don’t have all of my long limbs yet. I’m going to be taller than you, you know.” He pouted, his bottom lip sticking out like a sore thumb.
“I have no doubt about it.” She ruffled his black hair and pushed off the bed. “I’ll come back and visit you before I go to bed, alright?”
“Is that a promise, Red?” Cobalt held his hand out to her, all of his fingers bent towards his palm except for his last one. She wrapped her own around it and jerked it down, then up. He grinned and pulled her in for a close hug.
She had him.
He was all that mattered, all that she needed. A stupid Saint wasn’t going to make her happier, not when having their small, two-person family had been everything for the last eight years.
Crimson meant it as she whispered, “Always, Blue.”
When the elusive Saint didn’t come to bed once more, and the clock chimed twelve, she tossed the covers aside. This was ridiculous.Hewas ridiculous. Crimson wiggled her feet into afur clad set of slippers and tied the amethyst robe he’d left out for her around her waist.
She didn’t let Cobalt’s assumption take over, didn’t let his words float around her mind like a comet through space. There was no point to it.
The palace was quiet at night, but there were still servants milling about. They dipped their heads in quiet greeting as she passed by and she returned the gesture. There were candles lit still, draping along the walls as she followed the path to the place where he would most likely be. Especially at this hour of the night.
At least, if he was in the castle.
There was a good chance that he could be at the Spinning Compass as well. And if that was the case, she wasn’t making that trek so late at night. Especially not in her thin nightgown and slippers. Crimson sank down the stairs, one by one and followed the trace of pale moonlight as it crept through the cracks of the broken stones. Even buildings fell apart after time, and even simple stones needed to be fixed.
She reached the end of the staircase, wrapping around the turret and reaching the door that led out into the training yard.
Crimson was right.
He was here, alone.
She closed the door behind her, as quietly as she could without alerting him to her presence as he swung a staff around. There was no metal on the end of it, no brutal tip to stab holes into a man. He grunted with each move, working up a thick layer of sweat that clung to him like dew in the morning to grass.
West was fighting an invisible foe, hurling all of his might behind each counter thrust, each parry, each swipe that was perfectly timed in accordance with his trained and precise steps. He moved like the wind, body flowing as if it were made of water,his concentration heavy on whatever villain he’d created in his mind. She imagined it might have been Altivar. He didn’t seem to have anyone else that made him as vexed as the heir did, at least no one that she knew about.
But then again, he didn’t share much with her.
Perhaps it was one of the reasons for her distance isolation, for why she felt so alone here. He knew so much about her, she depended on him. Which was a new feeling in itself, one that she was struggling with.
Crimson hated that she needed him like that.
Never, once in their entire lives, had they needed anyone else. Not when the food ran low, or Heartache gave them the slip. She’d always managed to figure it out, to be clever enough to survive. But now, it was desperation that made her rely on him. It was the wary trust that she wanted to give him, and felt he deserved. It was soSaints-damnedhard to trust anyone, when all they did was leave.
But him, Crimson felt safe with.
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