Page 26 of The Warrior Priest (After the Rift #1)

She pulled out the chair beside hers. “Have a drink with me. I don’t feel up to arguing with you, but I could do with some company.”

She did look rather miserable. I signaled to the serving woman, then sat. “How is your friend?”

Giselle gave me a sad smile. “It was hard to see her. Knowing death is coming made every moment together feel important, special.”

I accepted the tankard from the server. “I remember when my mother was dying. The fever took her quickly, but not so fast that we didn’t have time for final goodbyes. I was grateful for that.”

“Was she sad to die?”

“She was worried about leaving me, but not sad for herself. She believed she would be reunited with my father in the afterlife.”

“You don’t believe in religion, do you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a comfort to think there’s something more after death, but I find it hard to believe that gods and goddesses have any influence over our lives.”

“That’s why I don’t believe at all. It’s too fanciful for me. I’m a pragmatic person.”

“So I noticed,” I said wryly.

“You and Rhys could never have had a future together, even if he left the order for you. He believes every word they teach in the temples.” She saluted me with her tankard. “But you’re more like me, Jac. We don’t have a spiritual bone in our bodies.”

I raised my tankard, too, but the bitter taste her words left in my mouth affected my enjoyment of the ale. Giselle didn’t know me as well as she thought she did.

I drank quickly then said goodnight before heading upstairs to my room.

I threw on my cloak, raising the hood, and opened the window.

The cool spring breeze caressed my cheek and ruffled the ends of my hair poking out from beneath the hood.

I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the faint scent of blossoms, then searched the shadows.

It came as no surprise to see a familiar figure lounging against the wall opposite.

I rested my palms on the windowsill and drew in another deep breath. Then, mind made up, I climbed out and used the pipe to slide to the ground. There was just enough light coming from the torches flickering on either side of the tavern door for Rhys to see me.

He didn’t move, however. He didn’t greet me. He made no sound.

“Rhys…” I began.

“Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t try to justify giving your message to someone else to deliver. You should have told me in person, Jac. Didn’t I deserve that?”

There was enough light that I could see his face.

I’d expected a little happiness and relief at seeing me, but clearly his anger overrode any tender feelings.

His features were all hard planes, his eyes ice-cold.

I’d thought his stance relaxed when viewed from my room, but it was rigid when seen up close.

I wanted to take him in my arms and smooth the tense muscles and melt the ice, but I didn’t trust myself. Giselle was right about one thing. Being apart from Rhys was best for both of us. That hadn’t changed. I closed my hands into fists at my sides and kept my distance.

“You grew your hair,” he said gruffly.

I touched the ends of my hair, peeking out of my hood near my shoulders. “You grew a beard.” Apparently this was Vizah’s definition of Rhys letting himself go. I certainly couldn’t see any other difference. Rhys looked as athletic and strong as ever, and his warm scent was still pleasant.

He scratched the beard, as if he’d forgotten it was there. “I’ve been told it suits me.”

“By a blind man?”

He huffed, not quite a laugh, but I was relieved to hear it.

“I’m sorry, Rhys. You’re right. I should have told you in person. I just…couldn’t.” He turned his face into profile. “How have you been?”

He pushed off from the wall and walked away. “How do you think.” It would seem I wasn’t going to be easily forgiven.

I followed him, even though I wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted, or whether it was a wise thing to do. “Wait, Rhys.”

“I can’t. I’m busy.”

“Then why did you come? The others told you I was fine, and they’d never lie to you. You didn’t need to see me in person.”

“It was a mistake to come here,” he said over his shoulder.

His long legs made it difficult for me to keep up. “Rhys, stop!”

He rounded on me. The ice in his eyes had completely melted, replaced with a burning fury I’d never thought him capable of feeling with me.

The affable man wasn’t in evidence. Not in the least. “Why should I stop to talk to you now, when you didn’t talk to me before you left?

Nor did you call on me once you came back.

Not even after learning I thought you’d died or were abducted. ”

“I told you—I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face you.”

My words might as well have been swept away by the wind before they reached his ears. “I left a candle in our window in the faint hope you were alive so that you’d know I was thinking about you and was searching for you. I even confronted the governor, demanding he release you!”

“Oh. I’d wager that didn’t go down well.”

“Is that meant to be a joke, Jac?”

“I’m trying to lighten the mood, Rhys.”

“Don’t bother. I haven’t been in a light mood for six months. I doubt I will be again soon.”

Seeing him lash out because he was in pain was like a knife to my heart; knowing I was the cause felt like the knife was being twisted. This time I did reach for him.

He jerked away. “Don’t.”

“Fine,” I said through clenched jaw. “You’re right. We should go our separate ways. It’s for the best.”

“I’m so glad you know what’s best for me since apparently everyone thinks I can’t be trusted to make decisions about my well-being.”

Everyone? So it wasn’t entirely about me. “That’s enough, Rhys. You’ve made your point and I’ve apologized.”

“Great! Wonderful. Then we can both go on our way and never see each other ever again, because you decided that’s what’s best for me.” He spun around and strode off.

“Not just you, Rhys,” I muttered. “It was best for me, too.”

He turned around and strode back, looking every bit the warrior charging into battle. “Clearly you didn’t return for me. So why did you return? Is it the pendant?”

“Giselle thinks?—”

“Giselle! Is that why you left Tilting? You took up her offer to be her apprentice?” He swore. “Merdu’s blood, Jac! You think I make terrible decisions.”

I bristled. “I couldn’t stay in Tilting forever, pretending to be a boy. I had to grow up at some point and be myself again. I had to think of my future.”

“So you thought you’d become an assassin’s apprentice? If you wanted more money for spying?—”

“It’s not about money, Rhys! I had to leave Tilting to…to discover who I am without—” I almost added ‘you’ but it wasn’t fair to blame him for my immaturity. That was my fault for allowing myself to be consumed by him. “I needed to grow up,” I said again. “I was too na?ve.”

“You didn’t just grow up, Jac. You changed, and not just in appearance.

” His gaze slowly moved down my length, leaving behind a trail of heat in its wake.

It was fortunate he wouldn’t be able to see my fierce blush in the night.

He cleared his throat. “You never would have argued with me before. Not like this.”

I quieted my voice to match his. “That’s the problem, Rhys. I should have argued with you more. But being around you affected me to the point where I wasn’t sure whether the opinions coming out of my mouth were mine or yours.”

“Of course they were yours,” he scoffed. “You disagreed with me on faith, about the god and goddess, about belonging to the order.”

“I never disagreed with you about the order. We had different ideas on religion, that’s true, but I never said you should or should not belong to Merdu’s Guards. If you think I did, then you’re not remembering correctly.”

“Oh, right, you’re the one with the faultless memory, so of course you’re always right.”

His bitter tone raked over me like nails across skin.

He swore again and dragged his hand down his face. When the hand dropped away, it was as if it removed a mask, revealing a man looking much older than his twenty-eight years. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t come here intending to shout at you. I am sorry, Jac.”

Tears stung my eyes. His tender apology hurt more than his angry words ever could. I didn’t trust myself to speak yet, so merely acknowledged his apology with a lift of my chin.

“Have you killed anyone for her?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“But you plan to.”

“That’s what she trained me for.”

“Then I was right. You have changed. You’re not the girl I knew.”

“I’m not a girl. I’m a woman.”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” he rasped.

My throat tightened. I dipped my head so he couldn’t see the tears shining in my eyes. His disappointment was like a weight on my chest, pressing down.

“If you’re here to assassinate your uncle?—”

“We’re not. We’re not here for work. Giselle wanted to see an ill friend.”

“I know you were watching his house earlier. The others told me where they saw you and it’s just around the corner from where he lives. Stay away, Jac. Please. He’s been looking for you, presumably because the pendant talisman didn’t work as he thought it would.”

“I’ll be fine, Rhys. He wants me alive. He won’t hurt me.”

“If you think that, then Giselle has taught you the wrong lessons. Be careful. Losing you once was hard enough.” His voice cracked.

I thought he’d finally give in and hug me, but he must have held on tightly to the last vestiges of his anger because he simply turned and walked away. He did not look back.

I turned away, too, and released a shuddery breath. That was over, thank Hailia. Now that we’d met, we wouldn’t speak again. There was no need for our paths to cross, and I wouldn’t be in Tilting for long. Our friendship was in tatters and that was how it would remain. It was for the best.

Knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

I cried myself to sleep.