The Girl Who Fell From The Sky - Rebecca Royce Page 0,18

once. My arm was still throbbing from the brands, but it was a good pain. I could absolutely sleep through it. I slipped out of the back room and up the stairs. As Mattis said, there were three narrow doors. I picked one, which turned out to be a tiny, cramped bedroom not unlike a starship cabin. The second door led to another bedroom, this one strewn with man-things and almost certainly Mattis’ personal living space. The third was the washroom, and I did take advantage of the running water. It was delicious in every way, not to mention cool against the branding wounds.

The burns on my hands and legs had all but disappeared. How amazing was that? Astor really did have skills.

When I rolled into the pallet-like bed in Mattis’ spare room, I thought my brain would recount the whirlwind of events I’d just endured or worry about the ones I was sure to face tomorrow. Instead, I thought about hands, of all things. My hands on fire, Nox’s hands examining me at the crash sight, Mattis’ hands gentle on the old man’s bent form. The images soothed me completely, and at last, I dipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Chapter Five

The next few days were, as I’d expected, a flurry of activity. The war party marched out before I woke that first morning, and it pretty much drained the camp of men. Mattis, Cannon, and Astor stayed behind, and I saw Dreama a few times looking very official. Apparently, she had charge of the women, children, and elderly while the war party was away. She took her responsibilities seriously. We were all under curfew and had to be alert at all times, which Mattis complained was terrible for his pub business. Well, of course it would be.

But that didn’t mean folks didn’t sneak in to grab a drink whenever they thought Dreama and her guards weren’t looking. Mattis was happy to help them indulge, but I noticed he watched them closely and never let them get too intoxicated to respond quickly if bad news from the battle came in.

Of interest to me was how people reacted to the brands on my arm, the first thing they tended to notice about me. Questions in their faces turned to deference and lots of muttered “highnesses.” I didn’t think their questions ever went away, of course, but no one dared to interrogate Torrin’s claimed woman.

Which felt like a lie, because I did not consider myself Torrin’s thing at all. If anything, I fit into Mattis’ world, with Astor as a frequent visitor, a lot better.

And then one midday, three days after the war party marched out, a woman slipped into the bar’s back room, and I could tell right away that she neither deferred to me nor came for a beverage.

I’d been wiping down ceramic mugs for Mattis but paused when she slipped into the room.

“Mattis went out to check the lists. He’ll be back shortly. Drink?” I asked, though I had no idea how to mix up one of the elaborate concoctions that were Mattis’ specialty.

She pointed at me. “So it’s true. He’s picked you. A stranger. Thrown all of it away. For you.” The still unnamed woman spit on the ground in front of me.

I stared at her, my mouth falling open. In the last three days, I’d done many things I’d never imagined doing before. I’d washed dishes. Served drinks. Helped sweep the kitchen. Ate foods I’d never known existed. But being spit at now ranked among the strangest I’d ever experienced.

Where I was from, people didn’t do that to me. I was Brent’s sister, and he was intimidating on a good day to those who followed him, and terrifying to those who didn’t. No one would have dared spit at me.

I stared at her for a long second. Amazingly, only calmness moved me now. “Sorry. Who are you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I am Sorcha. I am Torrin’s intended.”

Now, it made sense. Torrin had a fiancée and, despite the fact that I’d spoken to the man exactly once, I’d taken her spot.

Pity moved me to speak. The pain she was in? It had to be awful. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you. Please, let me try to explain. I—”

“Not another word.” Astor leaned in the doorway, and Sorcha’s eyes widened as she realized his presence.

He strode toward us until he stood behind me, his hand coming to the small of my back. “Bianca, Sorcha is not