Page 13 of Bitten & Burned

“Everyone likes praise,” I replied, my voice clipped.

“Some more than others.” He turned, reaching for a bowl. “If you want to go explore, come back in a few hours, I’ll have fresh sourdough bread.”

I reached over to take one of the chaussons with me, and he smiled to himself, but he didn’t address me again. I heard him cooing at Fig, however. I assumed my cat had abandoned me in favor of the one with access to the pantry, so I was officially on my own as I ventured back out into the hall.

My next stop was Vael’s rooms, but there was no answer when I knocked. I had to assume he was likely in the library. So that’s where I went next.

I pushed open the heavy door to the library with my shoulder.

This room had its own hush—Cassian’s wards overlaid with the faint thrum of Adellis, god of memory, as if each book kept more than ink inside.

I was expecting to see Vael there amongst the stacks of books, giving lectures to the ghosts contained in the spines.

But it wasn’t Vael who turned when I cracked open the door.

It was Quil.

He was seated on the floor near the far window. He had one leg stretched out, one bent at the knee. Practiced to quickly leave if threatened. Balanced on his knee was an open book. When he looked up at me with those dark eyes, I felt like I was interrupting something, like I was the intruder.

I froze, unsure if I should leave again or continue on my way in. “Oh…” I began. “I’m sorry, I was just—”

“Come in if you’re coming in,” he said, voice low and monotone. He closed the book. Gently. Which surprised me more than anything else.

He didn’t speak again, clearly waiting for something. For me to leave? To say something?

I wondered, stupidly, if he’d stayed out of this room for my benefit. If it had benefited him while I was only a guest. But since I wasn’t leaving, maybe he figured it didn’t matter if I found him here or not.

I opened my mouth to apologize again, maybe? I wasn’t sure, and he didn’t give me time to figure it out.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He was rising to his feet, placing the book on a nearby table. His voice scraped low, rough around the edges as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

“Like what?” I asked, too softly.

He made a sound. Quiet. Humorless. It wasn’t a laugh, but it wasn’t anything else either. Too bitter and sharp. Not enough of anything else. He took a step closer. Stalked. Low and tight like a predator about to strike.

“Like you know why I’m here.”

His eyes carried fury. Unbridled rage.

“You don’t,” he finished. A warning, perhaps. Or something else entirely.

I swallowed. I should have left. Should have backed out. Shouldn’t let him look at me like that. Like I was prey. Like he was hungry. But, gods help me, I liked it. What is wrong with me?

“I’m just looking for Vael,” I replied, soft but steady. I squared my shoulders a bit.

His jaw twitched. He looked like a cord about to snap. A string on a bow. I rejected the urge to back away again. I stood my ground.

“Keep looking,” he growled. “I’m the only one here.”

I nodded once. Terse. Perfunct. Done. I didn’t thank him. Shouldn’t have to. He hadn’t done anything. I left as quickly as I’d arrived. On a breath and a whisper. I was halfway down the hall when I heard the door close.

I wasn’t certain where Vael was, but it wasn’t in the library. And now, I was flustered. All the confidence I’d picked up from my time spent with Anton was gone. Used up. Burned up in a tiny wisp of smoke the second I saw Quil.

I just started walking when I closed the door to the library. My feet moved, one in front of the other, until I was standing at the opposite end of the manor. Near the study. Cassian’s study.

The walls were covered in maps. Cassian’s old armor was on a mannequin in the corner.

It was old, but he kept it perfectly polished.

He had weapons on the walls. Shields. Short swords.

Scimitars. Throwing daggers, sharpened to deadly points.

A greatsword taller than I was. Heavier too, by the look of it.

I spotted him over at the fire, his pipe in hand, sweet smoke billowing as he puffed on it.

When he stood like this, as relaxed as he ever was, vigilant but at ease, it was apparent how large he was.

He towered over me, but so did all of them.

Instead of sheer mass, which put Dmitri ahead by far, it was by presence.

His presence dwarfed all the rest. He could fill a room by simply standing in it.

“Good evening, Rowena,” he said without looking at me. “Did you sleep well?”

I wanted to answer truthfully, but I wasn’t certain if Cassian was asking to ask or to make conversation, so I answered the best I could.

“As well as to be expected,” I said, trying and failing to sound light.

He was quiet for a moment, thoughtfully puffing on his pipe. “Were your rooms to your liking? Were you warm enough? I could make sure your fireplace is stoked before you retire.”

Ah, so he’d seen through that careful veil, had he?

“Everything was fine, I just… I have a difficult time sleeping alone in new places,” I explained.

“Vael would be happy to join you, I’m sure.”

“I know he would, I just… need to figure this out on my own. I don’t want to be codependent on someone else for something as simple as sleep.”

He chuckled softly. “You’re a very independent sort of woman, aren’t you? No… person. You’re an independent person.” It was a statement, not a question. “Apologies, didn’t mean to appear misogynistic.”

“You didn’t,” I replied, wanting to chuckle at his genuineness. “I am, or I try to be… contrary to popular belief around here.”

He did chuckle at that. Warm. Comfortable. He looked at me, his gaze strong enough to both take me apart and put me back together again. “Quil’s isn’t the popular belief around here. Quil is just Quil.”

“I know, but… sometimes the negative words—”

“They ring the loudest,” Cassian finished.

“Yes, that’s the trouble with true balance.

Enough weight isn’t given to negativity.

It weighs so much more. To have equality, you must go by weight, not volume.

Many don’t realize this and wonder why they’re never happy with what they perceive to be balance. ”

I relaxed a bit. Talking to him was easy. That was different. He didn’t make me feel small. Or tall. Just equal.“Yeah, I’ve realized it. Not sure what to do with it, but I’ve realized it, alright.”

“You’re free to come in here anytime to try and achieve balance if… other things are too much weight. I would enjoy another round of chess when you feel able,” he added, a twinkle in his eye.

“Chess sounds fun. Maybe tomorrow? I’ve probably spent too much time in here as it is… You looked… busy.”

“Busy doing what? Staring into the flames?”

“I don’t know.. Thinking? Musing?”

“I’m not a soldier any longer, Rowena. I don’t have things to think about or muse about, only hypotheticals. Chess is the closest thing to combat in my life right now.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way. I sort of assumed you’d be… planning.”

“A commander looks forward to a time when he doesn’t have to lead anymore. But when the time comes, he can’t wait to do it again.” He sounded wistful.

“I’ll come back and play chess tomorrow,” I promised. “I’ve been thinking about our last match. I think you let me win.”

Cassian laughed fully at that. The sound was rich as chocolate, but steady as the tides. “You flatter me, little dove.”

“Flattery is not my strong suit,” I assured him.

“You do it well all the same,” Cassian replied, his eyes finding and holding my gaze.

I felt… strong… like I was blossoming. Proud. Happy.

“Well, tomorrow, you can try and prove me wrong, but right now, I’m looking for Vael.”

“That gives me something to look forward to,” Cassian said, a smile on his lips before he puffed on his pipe again. “Vael was in his rooms the last time I checked,” he continued. “If he’s not there, perhaps he’s on the back terrace. His telescope is there, and it’s a clear night.”

Of course. His telescope. That’s where he’d be. I’d find him on the back patio.

“Thank you, Cassian.”

“Anytime,” he replied.

As I left, I felt the wistful way he watched me go. The way his gaze lingered. Not hungrily, but lonely. I made a promise to come back tomorrow to play chess.

I headed back out into the hall, towards one of the back entrances, and onto a stone path that curved around through the brush and opened into the back patio.

Once there, however, Vael was nowhere to be found. I was, once again, alone.

Sighing, I leaned against the low stone wall surrounding the patio, resting on it, gazing up into the darkening sky.

I sensed him before I saw him approach. I glanced over, my senses correct. Dmitri was approaching.

I stood, staring up at the stars. I felt Dmitri move to my left. Close, but not touching. I chanced a quick look at the way the moonlight shone on his face. The chiseled jaw, his dark eyes.

“He’s not here, Mishka,” Dmitri said slowly, carefully. Not a question. A statement. Vael. He knew I was looking for him. Of course he did. Dmitri seemed to know everything.

“I know,” I said, my voice wistful as I gazed up at the stars. “I just wanted… You know. Quiet for a second.”

He didn’t answer. But I suppose that was his answer. I said I wanted quiet. Dmitri delivered.

I turned slightly, looking up at him. At the way he smiled, but not really; the upturn of his mouth wouldn’t have been perceivable if I were further away. He leaned slightly, nudging my shoulder with his, a reminder that he was there, if I needed him.

I let out a huff of what might have been laughter, if I’d allowed it to grow.

“You’ll find him,” Dmitri said, his voice low and quiet, just for me. “When you want to.”

What I wanted to do was stand here for a while. All night. It was so nice. Calm. Quiet. But I knew I should go and find Vael.