Page 21 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

A Whispered Calling

A few hours later, we decided to stop and make camp. We’d need to be fresh and rested before confronting the first mischief hag. Who knows what she can do?

Everyone was busy preparing dinner and arguing about what to make.

I offered my supplies, as no one else besides myself and Raewyn had gotten anything besides basic rations.

Though the dried goods had been purchased for my own use, I didn’t have the heart to deny anyone after seeing Georgina nibbling on nothing but a stale cracker our first night outside of the city.

A hot meal was a needed comfort, which everyone agreed on.

What they did not agree on, however, was whether to make lentils or oats.

Raewyn sputtered. “Oats are for breakfast, Georgina. You can’t make oatmeal for supper! It’s not natural!”

Georgina crossed her arms. “Oh yeah? Says who?”

Raewyn threw up her hands. “Everyone!”

A whisper brushed against my ear. "Could you come to my tent, please? I'd like your opinion on something."

Spinning my head to each side and behind, and seeing he wasn’t near, confusion set in. Raewyn and Georgina were too busy arguing to hear it or pay me any heed. It was definitely Ramiren whispering, but I didn’t know how.

Can he throw whispers ?

Closing my eyes with a smile, I opened them again to stand. "Excuse me, everyone."

His tent barely fit in the area Ramiren had placed it, taking over much of their available space.

I did not begrudge it, though, even if mine was stuffed into some ragged brush.

He needs his comfort, too. Tapping my hand on the tent, the canvas felt much warmer than the ambient temperature should’ve allowed .

Large. Comfortable. And now apparently heated . He really didn’t need my luck stone.

"Ramiren? It's Nathalia."

When he called out to enter, I ducked through the opening.

He had many pieces of his typical outfits hung out, strung across a line, and there were various cleaning implements spread about.

He was standing in soft, black linen underclothes with a small brush in his hand.

"I never got the hang of not having access to a launderer, but on the road, we must make do.

" He surveyed the clothing, smiling proudly. "What do you think?"

I gaped at him.

Laundry? You asked me to come look at laundry?

The anticipatory fluttering in my belly snuffed out like a candle, even if the disappointment felt silly. He needs my advice. He is my friend first. Not everything has to be about lessons.

I stepped forward and inspected the clothing thoroughly.

After picking a few pieces of lint off a jacket and running my hand down the front of a shirt a few times to unwrinkle it, I moved back.

"I think you did a remarkable job, especially given the circumstances.

You seem to have used the correct bottle for the correct material.

" Accessing the jackets, I pointed at a red and black one, the one he had worn at the carnival.

"This one looks best on you. It brings out your striking eyes and hair.”

"Thank you for the compliment, and I agree. That is one of the few items of clothing that I’ve had for a long time, almost thirty-six years.

Nearly every other piece I own is new. I don't think I'll be able to cast that jacket aside as long as it lasts, which should be my lifetime with magical assistance. "

Wait. Thirty-six? The light of realization hit me full in the face. That would mean…

I asked, suddenly breathless, "And how old are you, exactly? If you don't mind my asking."

"I don't mind in the slightest. I am sixty years old, though the date I will become sixty-one… isn't completely clear. I've settled on a favorite date, instead."

Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I placed my hands behind my back so he wouldn’t see me fidget. "You don't look a day over twenty-eight. Must be your broodling blood. And what is your favorite birthday? I do enjoy spoiling my friends, especially on special days."

He ran a hand through his hair and gestured to a small desk with a calendar on its surface, where a specific day in the very near future was circled in gold ink. "My blood, and spending most of my years where there is always access to a laundry doesn't hurt, either."

After noting the day on the calendar, a laugh bubbled out of me.

"No, no, it does not." When there was a slight lull in the conversation, I remembered there was a very important question to ask .

Now is as good a time as any. "About earlier. With the bunyip. You said there would be consequences if the pact was broken. What are those consequences?”

He raised his eyebrows. “That was not a true pact. No material payment was given in exchange for it. I was bluffing the bunyip.”

“Oh. Yes, but… what if ours is broken? It is a true pact, right?”

He bowed his head in agreement. “Yes, it is a true pact.” He tilted his head with narrowed eyes. “You don’t know the consequences of a broken pact?”

When I shook my head, his mouth thinned.

“Well. The answer is, I don’t know. You can’t know.

The pact magic I wield, that I trained for, is quite non-specific as to the consequences of a broken one, if indeed there is one at all.

And I’ve never had a pact broken, so I can’t even describe my own personal experiences.

Keep in mind, I say broken, not dissolved.

We are both within our rights to dissolve it at any time.

But if the stipulations of the pact are somehow breached, there are potential ramifications.

It’s different for everyone. Random consequences, by design.

That’s part of its power, the fear of breaking a pact and what might happen.

I’ve heard of people being flayed by an invisible blade, people showered with mountains of rose petals for the rest of their lives, blinded… ”

“Flayed? Rose petals? Why did you not warn me?”

He gave a reassuring smile with a one-shoulder shrug.

“It won’t come up. Secrecy is my specialty, so no one will learn of our pact.

I’ll not take your virginity. You won’t seek outside influence, and I'll not bed anyone else.” His eyes dimmed when he saw how unimpressed I was about his blase attitude.

“My apologies. You initiated the pact, so I thought you knew. I shouldn’t have assumed. That was my mistake.”

I did not like it at all, nor the uncertainty.

But he said he had no idea of the consequences, and he thought I didn’t approach him blindly.

My trust in that, at least, was solid. We’d better not break the pact then.

“Not that I'm not enjoying talking with you, but is your laundry really the reason you called me in here? "

The light in his eyes returned. "It actually was.

If you had tips on improving anything, I was eager to hear them, as you have always kept yourself in a manner a cut above those who live on the road.

" He paused for a moment. "I also will periodically give you an excuse to slip away for discretion's sake, while getting conversation or advice I genuinely want if you were not in need of an excuse to retire somewhere private. "

With the previous moment’s awkwardness forgotten, I couldn’t help but preen.

"Thank you for the compliment. I have a method, but it’s not easy to bathe in my tent, which is why I insisted on stopping near the strangely clear spring this morning.

I pride myself on my presentation, and I am grateful you noticed. ”

He chuckled. “You know, bathing in that strangely clear spring in the middle of a swamp in the Feylands with a mischief hag nearby was likely not the wisest course of action.”

Returning his chuckle with my own, I replied, “And nothing happened, except Raewyn jumping in afterwards when I came out unscathed.” My chuckle faded.

“Discretion’s sake, indeed. Ensuring the pact is not broken is, now more than ever, paramount.

I can’t say I wish to be flayed, let alone showered by rose petals for eternity. What an odd punishment.”

"I’m glad we have a place where prying eyes cannot compromise or even discover what you desire, where someone cannot look in on us by chance or design.

I am ready and willing, whenever you require, and will continue to present opportunities where you can ask for lessons more often than you'll need those opportunities. "

My eyes flitted to his mouth and need flared in me again. Sudden and potent. I guess the candle wasn’t snuffled completely. "Then would it be inconvenient for you to provide a lesson now?"

He placed the brush down. "Not at all, I chose this time because it would be convenient for us both. We can depart now, if you wish."

“Yes, please.”

He snapped his fingers and, a second later, we were back in the softly lit bedroom. Without instruction, I began to remove my clothing. Half-way through, only a shirt, stockings, and undergarments left, I whispered, "Would you help me, please?"

"Of course. You're already on topic." He began to untie the lacings at the top of my shirt, a strange smile on his face. He smiled so often, there had to be different meanings behind each one. Resolving to figure it out, he lifted the shirt above my head, which he folded and set aside.

Next, came my stockings. His palms smoothly traveled up each leg in turn, brushing my undergarments with teasing fingers before running his hands together down my thighs, removing the stockings one at a time.

Finally, when only my undergarments remained, he looked up at me from his crouched position.

“What was the difference between how we arrived here last time, and how we did this time? "

The answer popped immediately into my mind. "You asked for my consent first,” I said aloud.