Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Thirty Three: Truce

Something was wrong.

Nova hovered outside Grace's bedroom door, but she already knew Grace wasn't here. The room beyond was empty; Grace's aura was familiar enough that she knew that without knocking.

It made no sense. They had agreed to meet here — Grace had been insistent — and it was too early for her morning chores to have started. Too early for her to even be out of bed yet. Nova's feelings about the meeting were mixed, but she hadn't realised that a part of her had looked forward to it until disappointment crashed through her.

She cursed herself for a fool, for still pining after Grace after the last few weeks. She was still furious about Grace's decision, wanted to forget the whole thing and go back to painstakingly rebuilding her defences; the ones she had allowed Grace to tear down after ten years of being careful. Yet that small, traitorous part of her only clung harder to what they had built together, railed against the cold nights alone on the hearthstones and the chilly silences every time she saw Grace. The stabbing pain of betrayal. That small part offered up visions in her dreams of what life could be if she just weathered the storm and gained her freedom. Yet whenever she woke, she couldn't shake the thought of Harkenn's baby growing inside the woman she'd fallen in love with, and felt sick to her stomach at it.

She turned on her heel to walk away, pushing down that traitorous part clamouring at her to wait for Grace to appear. She'd come to the meeting, and Grace had not been here. That wasn't her fault.

A clattering noise sounded at the end of the corridor, and then footsteps and heavy breathing. Grace staggered through the service door at the far end of the servants' dormitory that led into a tiny courtyard with a privy. She looked pale, face covered in a light sheen of sweat, but she smiled when she saw Nova. It was tremulous, uncertain thing. Nova hadn't seen a genuine smile from her in weeks.

"You came." Grace hurried up the corridor, looking a little unsteady on her feet. "Sorry, I had to visit the privy. Urgent business." She laughed, high and breathy and not like her at all, as she unlocked the dormitory door and let them in. "Feel free to sit anywhere you like, I've still got this place to myself."

"You've been sick," Nova said. As Grace had passed her, the smell of vomit had been unmistakable. "Are you ill?"

Grace froze halfway through shrugging off her linen robe. Her nightdress underneath was translucent with sweat. "I had bad dreams. Woke up feeling really sick. I'm sure it's fine." She shot Nova a pleading look. "Please don't tell Jan. If I don't work today I can't get tomorrow off to see Joe."

"Do you often wake up feeling sick?"

Grace shook her head. "No, just today."

She wasn't lying. Something that had been gradually tightening in Nova's chest loosened. Perhaps it wasn't what she'd dreaded it was, just for a moment.

For a while, she watched Grace flutter about tidying her space, as if unable to settle.

"You asked me to come," she finally said, trying not to sound impatient. She wasn't sure she succeeded.

"Yes." Grace stopped abruptly. Sat down hard on her bed. "Sorry."

They looked at each other, meeting eyes for the first time in weeks. Nova's betraying heart sped up as she recalled all the nights she had spent staring at Grace's face, marvelling at it, at this woman who didn't seem to care that she was broken goods. Who paid attention to what she liked, and made sure to do it every time they made love. Who treated her wing stumps with tenderness, had never shown an ounce of distaste for the scars all over her body. Who made Nova feel like a person, for the first time in many years.