ASHER VISITED THE Hall of Healing after leaving the palace. There, one of the enchanters of the Light, a young woman named Alvia, tended to his bruised and battered ribs. Afterward, he made his way into the House of Light and Darkness, and up familiar stairwells and hallways to his chamber.
He opened the door carefully, not wanting to wake Mira. Inside he found the chamber lit in a soft glow from the lantern next to the bed. Grim sat roosting upon the windowsill, and Mira sprawled on her side, fully clothed, upon his sleeping pallet.
She stirred as he entered, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. “What time is it?” she asked sleepily.
“Late,” he murmured. “I thought you’d be fast asleep by now.”
Mira sat up and stretched, before giving a jaw-cracking yawn. “I couldn’t … not without knowing the king hadn’t locked you up.”
Asher gave a soft laugh. “You needn’t have worried. All is well.”
She watched him. “And your ribs? Has someone taken a look at them?”
He nodded, producing a clay jar and putting it on the sideboard. “I had three cracked ribs, which one of the enchanters has managed to heal. However, I’ll need to apply some salve to aid the bruising.”
Mira rose to her feet and crossed to the sideboard, picking up the jar. “Take off your shirt, and I’ll do it.”
Asher gave her a heated look, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re insatiable, woman.”
Mira gave him an arch look. “No … not tonight.”
Asher undid his vest, gingerly shedding it and the shirt he wore underneath.
Mira’s breath sucked in when she saw the state of his ribs; a mottled swath of purple and yellow bruises covered his left side. Asher caught her eye with a grimace. “Believe me, it looked worse earlier.”
They sat down upon the sleeping pallet, and Mira started to apply the salve. Her fingers were gentle on his skin, although the ointment was ice-cold. Still, her closeness made him relax. He looked down at her bowed head, the curtain of her dark hair, and a sense of calm settled over him. It had been a long hard day—and many worries still plagued him. Yet sitting here alone with Mira he felt at peace.
For the first time in his life, he felt truly content.
Mira finished applying the salve and pulled back, wiping her hands on a cloth. Asher was watching her, his eyes dark in the soft lantern light. He looked tired, although his expression was soft, his gaze intense.
“What?” she asked with a smile. “Why are you staring?”
His mouth curved. “It’s probably just exhaustion setting in … or it could be that you’re lovely to look upon.”
She huffed, as if the compliment didn’t warm her, when in fact it did. “You’ve a silver-tongue, Asher of the Light.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek gently. “Beautiful, but deadly. Just how I like my women.”
Mira inclined her head, gaze narrowing. “Your women?”
He laughed. “Well there’s Ninia, of course.”
“That ungrateful wench.” Mira pulled a face. “She didn’t even thank me for saving her life.”
He smiled down at her. Then he reached out and brushed her hair back from her face. “Then first thing tomorrow, I’ll march the girl up here and make her.”
Mira leaned toward him, breathing in the musky male scent of his skin. Truthfully, she’d seen little of Ninia since their arrival at the capital. They’d all been exhausted, and Ryana had escorted the girl off to bed as soon as they’d unsaddled the horses. “Aye … you do that.”
Asher’s smile faded then. “I told the king about Ninia … he wants to meet her.”
“You look worried—why?”
“After today, I’m wary of how folk will react to her.”
Mira shook her head. “Irana isn’t representative of most people.”
Asher pulled back from her and reached for his shirt. Mira sensed his mood shift.
“What is it?” she asked.
He shrugged the shirt on, his face twisting into a grimace as he did so. “There’s something else … the king has asked me to take Irana’s place as High Enchanter.”
Mira stiffened. “You didn’t agree, did you?”
“It’s not my decision anyway.” He looked away from her. “The High Council decides. They’ll cast their vote in the next couple of days.”
She watched him, noting the conflict, the tension, in his face. “And what if they vote you in?”
He glanced back at her, and she saw the answer in his eyes.
“I thought you wanted to be free,” she whispered, disappointment thrumming through her. “You said you’d had enough of this life.”
“And I have.”
“Why then?”
He held her gaze, his eyes shadowed. “War is coming to the north—we both know it.”
“Aye, but it doesn’t have to be our war.”
He watched her steadily. “Do you think we can hide from it? If Anthor wins, there will be nowhere else to go.” He broke off then and rose to his feet, crossing to where embers glowed in the hearth on the far side of the room. “I’m tired of all of it, Mira,” he said finally, his voice weary as he stared down at the dying fire, “but I can’t abandon the order, not now.”
Mira heaved in a deep breath. She wanted to be angry, yet she couldn’t dredge up the emotion. He was right. They could leave here tomorrow and hide themselves away in some forgotten corner of the kingdom—but trouble would find them eventually.
“So what would you have me do?” she asked finally. “Join The King’s Guard?”
He glanced back at her and shook his head. “I’d have you by my side. I want you to train the enchanters in physical combat, to teach them how to use their fists, throw knives, and wield a sword.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Enchantment will only get them so far in battle. They need to know how to fight without it.”
Mira watched him a moment, before her head inclined. “You’re serious?”
He nodded. “Will you do it?”
They locked gazes a moment. Then Mira rose to her feet and crossed to Asher, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Aye,” she murmured against the hollow of his neck. “If it means I’m near you, I will.”
They stood together in silence for a while, their bodies pressed together. The warmth and strength of him seeped into Mira’s body, releasing the lingering tension within her. She felt his steady pulse against her cheek.
“I’ve always felt so lost,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I blamed circumstance, the fact that life’s given me so few choices. I thought The Swallow Keep my cage, yet all these years it’s been me … I’ve kept myself prisoner … I just never realized it. You’ve changed me.”
He went still against her, and then she felt him kiss the crown of her head. “I had little to do with it. You had a journey to make, that’s all. And you’re not done yet—only you’re not alone anymore.”
She glanced up, meeting his gaze. “I love you, Asher.” The words sounded clumsy upon her tongue, and she felt her cheeks warm as she made the admission. Even now, showing him what lay in her heart was hard. She’d never found raw emotion easy to voice; and yet, seeing the joy light in his eyes, she was glad she had.
“Don’t look so pained,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’ll be our secret. No one else needs to know.”
Mira laughed. It burst out of her like music—a sound she’d rarely heard herself make, but one that she liked.
Asher caught her hand and drew her away from the fire, toward the sleeping pallet. “Come on, my lost swallow,” he said, still smiling. “It’s time for bed.”