Death's Shattered Crown

Chapter 9

Awareness slowly began to rise across Rose's mind and she blinked against the darkness of the room. As her sight adjusted, she realized what she was looking at was Samael's sleeping face directly in front of her and she jumped in surprise. That was an unexpected sight. She relaxed again momentarily and looked at his face for a moment, studying him. He seemed peaceful, which was not a look he often carried.

Deciding to leave him be, she carefully maneuvered off the bed and stretched. Smiling to herself as she realized her injuries weren't hurting quite as badly as they were yesterday, she lifted her shirt and looked down at the wound. She had to contort a little to see the stitches on her side but they were far enough down her ribcage that she could just see them. They weren't abnormally red, which she knew meant they weren't infected, and the skin seemed to be closing up a little.

"That's healing well."

Rose jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She immediately dropped her large shirt back over herself and turned to him. He was sitting up and stretching, not looking one bit sorry for peeking at her bare skin or scaring her. Instead of confronting him, she walked to the wardrobe and opened it, choosing some suitable clothes for walking around, just in case. She did not want to get stuck in uncomfortable clothes for days on end again. She chose a dark blue tank top and a pair of black pants that were made of a soft, yet sturdy material.

Quickly walking into the bathroom and shutting the door, she changed her clothes without looking in the mirror. As much as it pained her, she was afraid to see the look in her eyes the same way she'd seen it last night. That line of thinking would only drag her back down in her dark past and right now she needed to stay present. She put on the clothes, once again astounded by how perfectly they fit her. She walked out again without sparing herself or her old clothes a second glance.

"I didn't ask last night, but if you are able to conjure clothes then why did you lie about it before and make me wear yours when we first came here?"

Samael was sitting on the edge of the bed when her question announced her presence and drew his attention to her. He seemed to be thinking about something before she interrupted him.

"That wardrobe and others like it are able to take spirit energy and transform it into clothes for the wearer. I do not have one like it in my home because I do not welcome other souls there."

That answer was straightforward enough. It satisfied the burning curiosity she'd felt, but there were other things they needed to discuss.

"So how is it supposed to go today? I want to be ready."

"First let's go get you some breakfast. We will wait for Melinda and the Reaper she is bringing there."

They walked out the door and down to the desk, but the innkeeper was nowhere to be seen. Rose was about to walk back to the room she knew as the restaurant when Samael stopped her with a cold hand on her arm. He was very still, waiting or listening for something.

"Something is wrong. I cannot sense anyone here."

"It's not that strange for the man who was here to be gone. Maybe he's running errands." Rose offered.

"No, Rose. I mean that I cannot sense anyone in this village."

"Wh–"

She was about to ask more when he interrupted her. "We need to leave. Now."

His grip on her arm tightened as he dragged her to the door. He opened it and stepped out silently. As she stepped out, a gasp escaped her lips. They were surrounded by people, all spread out and looking anxious for a fight. Dead center of the group was Melinda, the usual smile on her face looking more like a smirk. They must have just walked into a trap.