Page 24

Oh, no. His eyes were glowing. The soft glow I had come to associate with contentment.

I had to tell him. That his stew was perfect in every way – the chicken tender, the vegetables cooked to perfection – except for the fact that it had no flavour at all. His recipe book must not have mentioned seasoning. There was no salt or pepper. No herbs or spices. Nothing. The parsnip somehow tasted the same as the chicken, and the chicken the same as the onion. It seemedimpossiblethat a stew could be so devoid of taste. Surely this was an unprecedented feat.

… I couldn’t do it. Let someone else crush him. Resolved to finish it even if it meant I received bland stews for the rest of eternity, I gave him a thumbs-up and ate some more. It would fill my stomach and warm me up, at least, and it was sweet of him to have tried.

‘So,’ I said, ‘you and me. Living together.’ I gave the stew a stir. ‘How are we feeling about that?’

Warden narrowed his eyes. ‘In what regard?’

‘We haven’t been alone together for a while. Not since Magdalen.’ Not for longer than a night. ‘Look, if – if you don’t want this after all, if you’d rather go back to London to be with the Ranthen, you shouldn’t feel obliged to stay with me. I’ll be all right.’

A tremor stole in my voice. The thought of being alone here was unsettling, but I had to make the offer.

‘I chose to accompany you,’ Warden said. ‘You needed someone with you, and even Terebell agreed that I was the best candidate.’ Another pause. ‘If youwishfor me to leave, however, I can summon one of your commanders.’

‘No.’

I made to touch his hand. It was unconscious – something I would have done in a heartbeat a few weeks ago – but I stopped just in time. His gaze darted from my hand to my face.

‘I don’twantyou to go. That’s the last thing I want,’ I said frankly. ‘I just want to make sure you don’t feel beholden to me. I made you promise we’d stay together, but I meant what I said just now. You’re not my subject. Ifyouever want to leave, just say the word.’

‘I am with you out of loyalty and fondness, not a sense of obligation. You said I was your friend, and no matter what we are or have been to each other, you are also mine.’ He held my gaze. ‘I am here for as long as you want me with you, Paige Mahoney.’

I searched the features I knew by heart, and I found I believed him.

‘Warden,’ I said, ‘I’m so sorry for what I said to you. I wasn’t in my right mind.’

‘I want no apology, Paige. I know what it is to crave a drug.’

Of course he did. The drug he had always mixed into his wine, the only thing that ever drove him back to his decaying home.

Amaranth.

‘When the scars first awakened, I was a prisoner in my own sarx. It was as if the torture had never ended.’ Warden looked hard at the wall. ‘I saw my Ranthen-kith in the same agony and all but crawled before Nashira. Since I had conceived the rebellion, I was responsible for their suffering. I meant to ask my betrothed for mercy.’

I watched his face.

‘There was nothing I could do to persuade Nashira to banish the poltergeist,’ he said. ‘My power was a façade, after all. All I had to offer was obedience. And my dignity. In exchange for those, she agreed to provide small doses of amaranth. Of course, she made certain to withhold them from time to time.’

‘Your dignity.’ The realisation settled in me. ‘That was why you always had to kneel in front of her.’

‘Yes.’ His tone was even. ‘Do not think I have no sympathy. I know the hunger that eclipses the self. The shame and frustration of needing what your enemy chooses to provide.’

‘It wasn’t your fault, Warden.’

‘It was not your fault, either.’

Neither of us asked whatitmeant. It meant any of it. Any of what had happened to us.

Just then, my cough started back up. Warden went to the cupboard and returned with a spoonful of honey, which I barely managed to swallow. It soothed the inflammation enough for me to draw an easy breath again.

‘Quick thinking.’ Eyes watering, I pressed a hand to my chest. ‘You know your home remedies.’

‘Some.’ He looked at me. ‘You have been coughing in your sleep ever since we arrived.’

I nodded without answering.

The wind-blown rain and the quiver of the shutters was all that broke the hush for a time. Once I had finished the stew, I shuffled to the parlour and tried to get comfortable on the couch. No easy feat with so many aches and bruises. Enveloped in a blanket, I worked on my coffee and listened to the storm, eyes half-closed. Already I was tired again.