Silk & Steel (Spellbound #3)

Chapter 3: Old Friends

"Castel?"

Jerking upright, he realised he must have dozed off in his chair. The room was dark except for a lone oil lamp burning on a small table next to the bed. Isobel was awake, leaning heavily against a pillow propped up against the wall. The linen bandage he had wrapped around her wound earlier covered her abdomen.

Straightening, he leaned closer to the bed to see her better. Her deep blue eyes were still glazed from the fever, but she appeared focused and awake. More so than he would have expected after seeing the spread of the Orc's Blood poison on her chest.

"I must have fainted," she said, smoothing wrinkles out of his bedsheets with her fingers. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"No need to apologise. Everyone needs a helping hand now and then. What happened to you?" He made a vague motion towards her bandaged midriff. "Orc's Blood?"

The dark circles under her eyes made him feel guilty about his barrage of questions. He made a wry face. "Don't answer now. You must be exhausted."

"A tad," she admitted with a tired smile.

"I must confess that our Spymaster, Boreas, knows you're here. I didn't break my promise not to tell, but he always seems to know things."

"I remember Boreas. We met in Messina a few times." She nodded slowly, her movements measured as if she was trying not to expend too much energy. "If you trust him, then so do I."

"How did no one recognise you as you arrived?" She was rather famous. Once you saved the world, people knew your name. She didn't look like a saviour of the world right then, half-sitting in his bed with her eyes heavy-lidded and her body wracked by poison.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I'm known by name only. Most people have never met me and would never recognise me. The guards at the gate assumed I was another unfortunate soul needing shelter from the snowstorm."

He supposed that made sense. While he would recognise her anywhere, those who had only ever heard of her might not. Remembering the Spymaster's request, he stood. "I will send Boreas a message to let him know you're awake. He wants to see you."

Not wanting to leave her alone for too long, he hurried out of the bedchamber and through his study. Opening the door to the hallway, he grabbed the first available person and gave them a cryptic message to deliver to Boreas. The Spymaster would know what he meant.

When he returned, Isobel had leaned her head back against the wall, and her eyes were shut. Despite the exhaustion and fever, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The years had not faded her looks, and his gaze traced the familiar features of her face in the flickering light of the lamp. The dark, winged eyebrows, so different from her silver-blond hair, the high cheekbones, the delicate nose, and the soft, full mouth. If anything, she was more beautiful now than when she had been a young Adept at Highglaive.

His eyes fell to the angry, dark lines stretching over her skin before disappearing beneath the bandage and what remained of her robe. "Does it hurt?" he asked gently.

She made a wry face. "More than I care to admit."

They remained silent as he wondered what he could do to help. He hated the feeling of helplessness as she took measured breaths, presumably to handle the pain. Fine lines on her face spoke of the strain she was under, no matter how much she must try to hide it. His hands fisted by his sides.

"I was happy to see you." The quiet words nearly made him jump. Her eyes were still closed, but the ghost of a smile graced her lips. "I knew the High King had sent his forces to Fort Mael—but I had not realised you had gone. When I saw you walking across the courtyard earlier... I was so grateful and relieved to see someone familiar. A friendly face."