Chapter 11 #2
For a moment, Cedric sat there, mouth half-open, the urge to speak burning like a smoldering coal in his chest. The thought of finally sharing his secret with someone besides Gwenna was almost intoxicating.
But he couldn’t.
Not when the cost of that confession would be too high for them all.
His gaze dropped to Finn’s hand resting in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I can’t.”
Finn’s shoulders sagged, disappointment shadowing his eyes. “I understand.” He cleared his throat. “Can you at least tell me about the dragon? The one that’s supposed to be guarding this tower?”
Cedric’s heart clenched. Dangerous territory. No matter how carefully he stepped, he risked revealing more than he could afford. “What about it?”
Finn’s brow creased as he tried to order his thoughts. “Your sister called it a pet,” he said at last, voice edged with skepticism. “But it looked exactly like the one that attacked the royal family. This one was strange, though. It didn’t attack me. It seemed almost…reluctant.”
Cedric swallowed hard, remembering that moment. The way Finn had looked, standing there in his gleaming armor, sword raised. Righteous fury burning in his eyes, ready to skewer me without hesitation.
He should have fought back. Should have killed him. But he hadn’t. Not just because he liked Finn—not that he was ready to unpack that mess—but because if he had, if he’d let himself become the monster Finn already believed him to be…
Cedric feared that he’d never find his way back.
“The dragon is…” Cedric paused, searching for the least incriminating words. “Not what you think. It’s not a monster. It’s…a protector.”
Finn leaned forward, wincing a little. Cedric almost reached out to brace him, but stopped himself. A dangerous habit, this urge to touch Finn.
“A protector?” the knight repeated. “Of what?”
“Of us,” Cedric said simply, forcing himself to hold Finn’s gaze. “Of this place. Of our freedom.”
For a moment, Finn said nothing. Then confusion and some hint of realization warred in his expression. “You talk about it like it’s intelligent. Like it’s…”
Cedric’s pulse spiked. He’s putting it together.
But after a beat, Finn sighed, running a hand over his face. “Never mind. I must still be more addled than I thought.”
A soft, tremulous sigh escaped Cedric. Thank Nivara, Keeper of Secrets.
“You should rest,” he advised, standing and putting some much-needed distance between them—both to hide the relief washing over his face and to stop himself from doing something reckless.
Like letting this conversation continue. “Your body needs time to heal.”
He turned to leave, but before he could take a single step, Finn’s hand shot out, fingers curling around Cedric’s wrist in a firm grip. The warmth of that touch jolted Cedric more than any blow could have, and he froze, meeting Finn’s gaze.
“Thank you,” Finn said, voice hushed. “For helping me. For…not killing me when you had the chance.”
Cedric’s throat constricted at the gratitude in Finn’s eyes.
If only he knew. If only he understood just how close he had come to dying in that clearing—how Cedric’s instincts had screamed for him to fight, to end the threat before it could end him.
How much of a battle it had been, not just to spare Finn’s life, but to preserve the last scraps of his own humanity.
“I could never…” Cedric started, then faltered, the words catching like thorns in his throat. Gods, why was this so difficult?
Finn’s grip was warm and entirely too distracting.
Cedric swallowed, exhaling sharply before gently pulling free. He masked the turmoil twisting in his mind with a carefully neutral expression, though he wasn’t entirely sure he pulled it off. “You’re welcome,” he finally managed.
Finn arched a brow. “That sounded painful.”
Cedric rolled his eyes. “I’m not used to thanking people for making my life more complicated.”
Finn smirked, utterly unfazed. “Oh, I can promise you—it’s only going to get worse.”
Cedric scoffed, stepping back before he did something stupid. “Wonderful. I can’t wait.”
And Finn—the infuriating man—actually winked.
Gods, I should have let Gwenna hit him twice. Cedric huffed out a breath and pivoted away.
As he reached the door, a sudden commotion from outside shattered the moment—bleating followed by a clatter of something heavy tipping over. Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose.
Finn tensed, still every inch the knight ready for battle. “What was that?”
Cedric didn’t even have to guess. “Clarence,” he groaned. “He’s probably broken out of his pen again. No doubt leading another goat uprising.”
Finn’s eyebrows rose un understanding. “I know that goat,” he said with a rueful note that bordered on humor.
Cedric let slip a small smile. If nothing else, we share a mutual nemesis in Clarence. “Yes, well…that’s my princely duty,” he joked, forcing lightness into his tone. “To quell goat rebellions.”
Finn actually smirked a little, eyes dancing with good humor. “Isn’t that what your knights are for?”
Cedric snorted softly, heat rising unbidden to his cheeks. Did I really just say princely duties? “Not my injured knights,” he parried, an odd warmth lighting his heart. He swallowed, pushing that feeling down. “You’re charged with staying here and healing,” he added, more seriously.
Amusement danced across Finn’s face, and Cedric’s heart gave a quick, treacherous flutter. He truly looks better when he’s not scowling at me.
Cedric tore his gaze away, fixing it on the door instead. “I’ll check on you again soon,” he promised, voice soft. Gods, why did it come out like that? Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and hurried out.
He shut the door quickly. Too quickly.
Cedric pressed his back against it, exhaling a slow, ragged breath.
The soft click of the latch was the only sound in the corridor, but his mind refused to quiet. The way Finn had looked at him, the way his fingers had curled around Cedric’s wrist. How had such a simple touch left him rattled?
He swallowed hard. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.
Pushing off from the door, he took the stairs two at a time. Focus on the goat. Focus on anything else. But even as he reached the ground floor, the cool night air rushing in through the open archway, his heart was still beating far too fast.
“Cedric!” Gwenna’s exasperated shout rang across the courtyard. “If you don’t get out here and deal with this blasted goat, I swear—”
Clarence bleated in triumph.
Perfect. A disaster he could actually deal with. Anything to take his mind off the knight inside the tower.