Page 10 of Her Shadow so Dark and Lovely (A Curse of Fallen Stars #1)

Lorel

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to wake to daylight, instead of the cold dark of a room under a mountain.

It does no good to think such thoughts, but they come anyway.

I like the shape of my life that I have moulded for myself, but the sun does not shine outside the Citadel anymore than it does here.

It had, once, but now the land was covered in a cursed fog that never lifted.

A warning, the Dawn King would tell you, that there is no life to be had outside the Citadel.

I sit on the edge of the bed, testing my legs in the dark little infirmary room. I’d done a little moving about the room in the time since I had woken, and I hoped they wouldn’t fail me now.

Lune has left to bring me a change of clothes, since I couldn’t very well walk out in my undergarments. Otherwise I would have left already. I was tempted to do so anyway. I was so tired of this room.

The door creaks open and I look up, but it isn’t Lune returning with a change of clothes. Instead, Sila stands like a long mark of darkness in the doorway. Stands there holding my clothes. I stare at her.

“I thought you might like your own clothes,” she says, closing the door behind her. It is unnervingly thoughtful.

Thank you. My hands fumble it a little.

Sila crosses the room to set my clothes down on the bed.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks.

What?

It takes a moment for me to catch up with her words.

Yes, breakfast.

“Good. Come, let’s get you changed.” Heat sears my cheeks and it must show because her mouth curves into one of her horrifically lovely smiles. “Oh, surely you’re not shy, little mouse.”

I’m not. Sort of. Maybe. Taking my clothes off around other people just isn’t something I tend to do.

I’d never even tried to be intimate with someone.

No one was interesting enough to warrant bringing myself to be naked in their presence.

No one had shown any promise that they could do better than I could do myself.

My cheeks must be the red of a Barracks forge.

Why was I thinking of this now, of all times?

“I can leave if you like, Lorel,” she says.

Dawn King strike me, it isn’t like she hasn’t seen most of me at this point anyway. There is no need to cause more of a fuss than I already am. I push myself up from the bed and my legs wobble. She catches me as I stumble. Strong arms hold me firmly.

“Steady there, little mouse,” Sila says, her mouth far too close to my ear.

I purse my lips, but I’m not foolish enough to think I can stand on my own so easily.

I grip Sila’s forearms and feel her wiry muscles shift under my palm.

It’s an unexpected pleasure. Librarians always wore long black cloaks, with the full intention to look like stalking nightmares, I’m sure.

Sila’s cloak always sat over unfashionably wide, billowing sleeves that would have been in style five centuries ago.

I tip my head back to look up at her and she’s watching me curiously.

I can’t quite decide what the look in her eyes is.

There isn’t any time to puzzle it out, because her hands grasp the fabric around my hips and lift it over my head. The cool air hits my skin, and I shiver against it. I clutch my arms around my chest.

“Arms up,” Sila commands. I do as I’m told, and she drops a clean linen shift over my head. I tug it down over my thighs, unsure why I am so nervous. Sila swats my hands away from the ties, tying them for me.

I can dress myself .

“I’m sure you can,” she says, motioning for me to slide my arms into the sleeves of the woollen dress she has picked out for me.

I give her a look of dismay. The thing buttons all the way up the front, and I cannot manage it with my hand…

which she surely knew. Her mouth twitches in a satisfied sort of way as she tugs the dress around my body and starts to slip the buttons closed.

If nothing else, she is far quicker with it than I have ever been, so I suffer it in silence.

As if I have a choice about the silence part.

When she’s done, she’s kneeling at my feet and, for once, I look down at her. I regret it almost instantly when she smirks back at me. She drops a pair of wool slippers in front of me, and I brace myself on her shoulder as I step into them. I don’t know why I’m holding my breath as I do.

“Hmm, perfect,” she says, looking up at me. I might as well have a fever again at this point. Maybe I still do.

When can I go back to work?

“Never, if I had my way,” she says cheerfully as she stands. My thoughts snare on that and I think I must have misheard her. She settles my glasses on my nose. “Come, let’s get you back to your room.”

I know the way.

All I get is a thoughtful hum in response. And then a playful tut when I try to walk across the room and stumble again. I should have tried harder yesterday to be less useless.

Sila catches me again, but this time one arm comes around my back and the other scoops up my legs. I throw my arms around her neck, terrified that she’ll drop me. She just laughs softly.

“I have you,” she whispers. I can’t even sign back the insult I want to throw at her right now.

I try to push away, but Sila is strong. She holds me as if I am nothing more than a piece of damp paper.

“Scribe Lorel, if you cannot make it across the chamber, you will not make it back to your room. Do you want to stay here?”

I pull back, the better to look at her. Her face is… not unkind. I think she would put me down, only she would put me back in the infirmary bed and leave me there.

I want my bed. I want my room. I’m tired of being here.

I shake my head to answer her and she smiles, satisfied.

The door opens itself and I cling to her again as she walks.

I hide my face in her hair and it has the subtle fragrance of star flowers, the little bloom grown for making funerary incense.

I should feel more upset about this. Particularly as this is about as embarrassing as it could get.

Not in the least because if I am trying to lose Sila’s attention, I think I am failing catastrophically.