without needing me? I’m all for that possibility. And the more helpful I am, the more helpful these men will hopefully become when I’m asking more of my questions.
Obediently, I stretch out my arm, bare beneath the sleeve of my T-shirt. I rest it on the arm of the chair, the skin on the underside somehow even paler than the rest, nearly translucent. Blue veins crisscross the delicate bones. August’s incredible meals have started filling me out from my half-starved state, but it hasn’t been that long. I’m still thin enough that I want to wince, seeing myself.
Sylas moves methodically, so different from August’s enthusiastic vigor. He crushes a few of the orange leaves between his thumb and forefinger and then rubs the paste that forms onto my skin just below my wrist. He waits, observing. “Do you feel anything unusual?”
I shake my head. “Nothing I wouldn’t expect to.”
After a little longer, he wipes the herb off, studies the faint pink spot it left on my skin, and hums low in his throat. It mustn’t be anything all that exciting, because rather than spend any more time on that reaction, he retrieves another sprig from his bag, this one bushy as a squirrel’s tail—if squirrels came with lavender fur.
That stuff sends a faint stinging sensation through my skin when Sylas applies it. He has me describe the feeling, wipes it off, examines the slightly darker pink mark, and rubs a cool gel onto it that absorbs the sting. Apparently that wasn’t anything unexpected either. He immediately moves on.
We’ve gone through five herbs, none of them provoking any response that holds Sylas’s attention for more than a few seconds, before I gather the courage to find out if my cooperation has earned me any of his cooperation in return.
“August said the four of you haven’t always lived here.”
Sylas pauses and looks from me to his cadre man. August ducks his head and throws himself even more energetically into stuffing the roast he’s working on now. “August seems to have a habit of mentioning things he doesn’t need to,” the fae lord says, his tone mild but low enough that there’s a hint of reproach in it anyway.
Is Sylas upset that August told me as much as he did about the curse? I didn’t mean to get him into trouble. “I— He didn’t say very much,” I add quickly. “But you said something when I first got here, about somewhere called Hearthshire… That’s where you used to live?”
The lord’s mismatched gaze comes back to me, and my skin prickles with the impression that he’s again seeing a lot more than I said. Then he chuckles, a deep rolling sound that’s only a tad less unnerving than if he growled. “The little scrap listens well. Why do you want to know about Hearthshire?”
I can’t exactly tell him that I’m hoping someone will slip up and offer a tidbit that’ll aid my eventual escape. But I have other, more innocent reasons I can give that are still true.
“I’ve been living in your world for years, and I don’t know anything about it. I haven’t seen anything of it except the room my cage was in and this keep. I can’t help… being curious.”
“We were gone from Hearthshire long before you came to the Mists,” Sylas says, returning his attention to his herbs. “Long before you were even born, from the looks of you. It’s better for all of us if we look forward instead of back.”
I can’t really argue with that. “What do you see looking forward?” I ask instead.
A small smile curls the lord’s lips. “Better things, if we’re wise in how we make our moves. I’ll take care of that, one way or another.”
He doesn’t look me in the eyes as he says it, training his gaze on my arm and the bright green herb he’s rubbing into my skin now. A shiver creeps down my back.
I’m going to be a part of those moves—and it’s hard to believe that the way I end up fitting into their plans will be better for me in the long run.
11
August
“Just one more tartlet?” I implore, waggling the pastry at Talia. “Otherwise I’ll think today’s baking wasn’t up to snuff.”
The human gives me that hesitantly fierce look, as if she knows I’m not being serious but isn’t quite confident enough yet to call me on it. At the same time, her lips twitch with a smile, and the blush I adore more every time I