Chapter 4
Elia
The sun has long since made an appearance out the window, and there’s not much for me to see anymore. I still stare out anyways, too exhausted to strike up another conversation.
I had been mesmerized by the transformation from desert to forest. I hadn’t seen grass since I left my family’s farm and I’d forgotten how much color and vibrancy it adds to the world. I wish the glass panes of the carriage could open so I could soak in the clean smell of it.
I glance at Callum out of the corner of my eye.
I haven’t been able to gather my thoughts on him quite yet.
My first impression of him in the camp was that he carried himself well and that his manners and demeanor screamed noble-born.
He’s not too different in the carriage but there’s a few small quirks that I’ve picked up on in this one day of travel.
Like Callum’s fidgeting hands and his unease at questions about his past relationships.
His secrecy of this relic is also making me question whether accompanying him was a good idea or not.
I was caught up in the whirlwind of the moment when he asked me.
My fantasy of my parents greeting me had died away and with it all my remaining hope.
Not that I had much left anyways. After eleven years, I figured my parents were long gone.
Dead or lost or otherwise not able to return for me.
And that’s why I accepted Callum’s offer. It was the first time I could see a future for myself, a path to freedom, to living.
I start to see the lights of a town coming into view.
It’s an ordinary village, similar to the one near my farm, with the typical stone buildings built so closely together it’s hard to distinguish one from the other.
I don’t see any people, so it must either be well into the evening or a smaller, less populated town. Or both, I guess.
Callum clears his throat. “We’ll be stopping in Moira. The inn’s straight ahead, and you can clean yourself up and rest for the night.” He says it with his typical formality tinged with awkwardness again.
Moira. I try to recall the maps I studied so long ago to place it, but can’t.
My confusion must be easy to read because Callum follows up with, “It’s about one more long travel day to the palace. Moira is a quiet town in the northern part of Ashven. It’s small enough that they’re desperate for business and won’t cause any…problems.”
There’s that secrecy again, too. I wonder if it’s all because of his paranoia about the relic or if it’s something else entirely. He clearly holds a high position with the King, so maybe choosing a less populated town is for his protection as well.
The carriage slows and eventually comes to a stop.
The door opens, and I see the female Hunter who greeted us earlier.
Jenna? Gina? Whatever her name is, she’s around Callum’s age, maybe a couple years older than me.
Her dark hair is tightly braided into a crown around her head, with gold pieces adorning parts of the braid, shining in the moonlight.
“Everyone all right?” She asks, eyes flickering to Callum for the confirmation that I didn’t try to kill him or something.
“All good, thanks, Ginna.”
She nods curtly. “I’ll take care of the horses, and I’ll meet you inside.” She steps out of view, leaving the door open.
Callum exits the carriage and holds his hand out to help me out. His courtesy supports his noble-born aura. No man I’ve met in the Traps would act in this manner.
I tentatively place my gritty hand in his, sand still wedged under my fingernails, as he helps me down the carriage steps.
We’re standing in front of another stone building, sizable compared to the other structures I’d seen on the ride in.
The inn’s sign depicts a very faded dragon, slowly creaking back and forth in the wind.
The name is also faded, and in the poor lighting I can’t make out the name.
I take this opportunity to inhale the night air, relishing in the fact that I can take a full breath without any sand clogging my throat. I catch a faint whiff of wet grass. It’s the best scent I’ve ever smelled, one I won’t take for granted again.
Callum walks into the inn, and I follow right away, not wanting to be left behind in the night. It’s a small entrance room, with two lumpy sofas by the fireplace that’s smoking its last embers. It’s cozy and clean, two things that have been foreign to me for a while.
A plump motherly woman emerges from the back room and smiles broadly when she sees us.
Callum does the talking, asking for baths to be drawn and food to be delivered to our room.
The conversation fades in the background as the exhaustion of the entire day starts to sink in.
I’m tired and hungry and my sandy clothes have made me itchy.
I’m sure I must have a rash from all the irritation on my skin.
Even if I was back at the camp I would have cleaned off by now, changing into my sleep shirt that I tried to keep meticulously free of all grit.
It all still feels like a bit of a dream, afraid that if I dared to pinch myself I’d wake up in my bunk back in the Traps.
“Elia?” I jump as Callum speaks. “You okay?”
My expression softens. “Just tired.” I subtly pinch my thigh. But alas, Callum is still talking, and there’s no sand in sight.
“Our room’s right upstairs, first door on the right she said.” He hands me a large iron key with the number four etched into the top. “A bath is being drawn for you now. I’ll be back to our room in an hour or so – I need to check in with my Hunters and make sure they’re all settled as well.”
I start to nod, eyes heavy with sleep, and head towards the stairway, then stop in hesitation. “Wait – did you say our room? As in you’re sharing a room with me?”
He smirks at that, and I see that he has a dimple in his right cheek which somehow makes him look younger. “We barely know each other. How do I know you’re not going to take off in the middle of the night?”
“How do you know I won’t murder you in your sleep?” I retort.
“I don’t,” he responds, still flashing that infuriating dimple at me. “But seeing as you’re not even armed, I’ll take the chance. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Callum heads out the door, but not before I call out to him. “You’re sleeping on the floor! And I could still smother you with a pillow!” I hear a chuckle, and then I’m alone, still trying to process everything.
Eventually, the lure of the promise of the bath has me climbing the flight of stairs and unlocking my – I mean our – room. It’s a nicer room than I was expecting. I guess being the King’s lead Hunter pays well to buy the best room available in this place.
I’m also relieved to find that there’s two single beds on opposite sides of the room, with a small table and chairs separating them. There’s a fireplace in the corner, and a tin bath basin has been set up in front of the hearth.
The smoke tendrils coming off the hot water call to me, and I practically rip my clothes off in my hurry to jump in. I can’t remember when I had a bath last, nevermind a hot one.
The warmth of the water causes me to sigh audibly, tension and muscles easing immediately in the heat. There’s a strong scent of lavender and I’m grateful for whoever added the calming scent.
In less than a day, I’ve gone from being treated like a servant to being treated like a princess, even being escorted to the palace itself. I hope I can find this relic for Callum so I can, in some way, pay him back for all he’s given me, even in this short time.
After giving a second - okay, maybe longer than that - for my muscles to relax, I tackle the not so easy task of scrubbing the sand off my skin and washing my hair.
The water has gone cold by the time I’m satisfied I’ve cleaned off most of the remnants of the desert.
I grab the towel that was left out, wrap it around myself, and climb out of the tub, careful to stay close to the fire to try and dry my hair.
I haven’t cut my hair since the first couple years of being in the camp when I learned that using rusty shears was not worth it, and I’m desperate for a trim.
My wet hair is heavy on my back, and I don’t want to sleep with it wet or else I know I won’t get warm.
When I’ve about dried my hair to a damp state where I’m not shivering, I hear a knock at the door.
“Elia?”
It’s Callum. Has it been an hour already?
I glance down, noticing I’m only wrapped in a towel.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
I frantically scramble to find something to put on, but the only clothes in the room are the sand coated ones I took off, and there’s no way I’m putting those back on to sleep. Maybe I should have gone back to my tent and grabbed my sleep shirt when Callum made the suggestion.
Another soft knock. “Everything okay?”
I give up and sit on one of the beds, grabbing a hairbrush to keep myself busy.
Maybe he won’t notice that I’m in nothing but a small towel.
“You can come in!” I call out to him.
I hear the click of the key in the lock before the door swings open and Callum steps into the room. I avoid eye contact, absentmindedly brushing my hair as if I didn’t have a care in the world. His footsteps come closer, and I realize he’s carrying a tray with some steaming bowls of food on it.
“I hope the bath was to your liking,” he muses, placing the tray on the table between the beds.
My stomach rumbles, the noise causing him to turn towards me. I shiver as his eyes rake down my body, taking in my appearance.
He clears his throat and opens his mouth as if to say something, decides otherwise, and closes his mouth.
He clears his throat again.
I resist the urge to laugh or roll my eyes. A girl in a towel can’t be the worst thing he’s seen, can it? I’ve lived in a camp for the last decade, and this is hardly considered scandalous.
Then again, if he hasn’t had any action in the last - what did he say? Five years? Then maybe this is the first time in a while he’s seen any bare skin, sexual or not.
I stop brushing my hair and eye the tray he set on the table, mouth watering at the smell.
“Is that food for me? Because I’m starving,” I drawl dramatically, putting a hand over my stomach.
I move and sit on one of the chairs next to the table and bring one of the bowls to me. “Are you planning on eating, too?”
I can see the exact instant he collects himself and sits opposite of me. “Yes, please, eat. If you don’t like it I can request something else.”
He doesn’t realize how good any food without a coating of sand sounds to me. Or any food that’s not scraps.
I take a spoonful of the hearty stew and groan. “I haven’t had a meal that hasn’t tasted gritty in a long time,” I grin. “I almost forgot that food could taste this good.”
I try not to devour the whole bowl too fast. Callum’s manners are impeccable, and I don’t want to be a disgrace already. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for that in the future.
Callum joins in eating, and we sit there quietly enjoying the meal until we finish. The combination of the hot bath and dinner has staved away some of my fatigue.
“Can I get you anything else?” He asks, stacking the dishes on the tray and putting it outside our door.
“Something to sleep in? I don’t want to have to put on my old clothes, and I suspect you’d rather I stop wearing this towel around. Although I’m happy to sleep naked if not.” I throw him a saucy wink.
It’s so easy to push his buttons and I find myself enjoying that I can affect someone so easily. It gives me a small surge of power I’ve never felt before. Sure enough, Callum’s face goes beet red, the blush easily visible on his pale skin.
“Sorry, I didn’t even think.” He goes over to a trunk I didn’t see him bring in and pulls out one of his shirts. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect.” I catch it as he tosses the shirt to me, and I start to pull it on over the towel, loosening the towel underneath so it falls to the floor.
Once I’m dressed, I notice that Callum had turned around slightly for my privacy, and I smirk. It might be fun trying to loosen him up and shed some of that prudish formality.
“You can look, I’m decent.” I hop back to sit on my bed. “You could’ve looked even if I wasn’t decent.”
Callum shakes his head and goes to sit on his side. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
I feign a gasp. “Me? You’re the one who hunted me down.”
“I have a feeling I’m going to regret that.” He’s serious at first, but I see the dimple start to emerge. Maybe he does have a playful side behind all his sternness.
“Probably.” I stretch my arms over my head and fall back on the surprisingly comfy bed. “Thanks for the bath and for supper. I feel human again.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you again for coming with us. I know it may not seem that important, but it is, and any help is appreciated.”
I still haven’t stopped wondering about what the relic could be, especially with his insinuating comments.
It has to be very rare, that much is obvious, but what ability would the relic hold that would be that important?
For a king, I imagine the relic would have to provide wealth or riches, but could it be a weapon of sorts to be used in a future skirmish?
Callum promised he would tell me when we arrive at the palace, so I’ll do my best to be patient for now.
I tuck myself into bed, pulling the quilts tightly around me. “You’re welcome, too. Something tells me that we’ll be the best of friends after all this.”
I hear the soft chuckle I’ve quickly grown fond of, picturing that damn dimple again, before I hear the candles being blown out. I’m on the cusp of sleep, in that halfway state drifting off, when I hear Callum whisper, “Goodnight, Elia.”
It’s the best night of sleep I’ve had in years.