CHAPTER 44 JAX
JAX
For days, I wait for Tycho to ask for his armor. I expect him to strap on his gear, saddle up Mercy, and ride back to the Crystal Palace to accept whatever orders the king may have. I’d follow him, of course, but I’m ready for it.
But days pass, and he doesn’t ask.
We tend the animals in the barn, and we shoot arrows in the woods, and we ride the horses on lazy loops through Briarlock.
I can feel his lingering sadness, as if something has been ripped away— but I don’t pry.
Noah hasn’t left, but he gives us space when we need it, and offers company when we want it.
I learn why Tycho is so devoted to him, and why he was such a confidant when he was younger.
At night, Tycho and I lie awake in the shadows and talk, our fingers wound together. Sometimes we kiss, sometimes we do more, but mostly we simply exist together, with no pressure to do or be anyone or anywhere else. Just Tycho— and just Jax.
When Lord Jacob eventually comes to fetch Noah at the end of the second week, he brings a cat in a wicker hamper.
“Salam!” Tycho exclaims in surprise, pulling the orange tabby free.
“He scratched the hell out of me,” Jacob says.
Noah cuffs him on the shoulder. “But it was your pleasure,” he says pointedly.
“Anything for T.”
They stay for a few hours, and we share a meal and conversation, telling stories around a campfire that make me laugh, but only pull a smile from Tycho. When they leave, I wonder if this will spark Tycho’s desire to return to duty— but it doesn’t.
Instead, he pulls me into the house and spends an hour making me forget my own name.
When we wake in the morning, his cat is in the bed, curled against my shoulder, purring loudly.
“Traitor,” Tycho whispers to him, and I smile.
By the end of the fourth week, we’ve cleared out the mess in the forge, and I’ve started doing odd jobs for random travelers who make their way down the lane.
I haven’t started seeking more business yet, because I’m waiting to see if Tycho intends to stay here, but I don’t turn it down when work shows up.
Soldiers ride through one day, and we’re surprised when Malin, Sephran, and Leo come up the lane— though they can’t stay. They’ve been ordered back to Emberfall.
Sephran does give me a hug goodbye, and it makes me grin to see the daggers in Tycho’s eyes when he watches it happen. We both promise we’ll visit Ironrose when we can, but Tycho is so vague about the promise that I can tell he’s in no rush to leave.
Sheer boredom leads us to repair the damage to Callyn’s bakery, too, even though it’ll likely have to be boarded right back up. I’ll have to send word to ask her what she wants to do with the property.
By the end of the fifth week, we’re both healed well enough for sparring, and we grapple in the woods.
At first, it’s playful, and I can tell Tycho’s being cautious because he’s not sure how much I’ve learned or how much either one of us has healed.
But Sephran never went easy on me, so when he lightly brushes my arm to the side, I try to spin him and trap him in a maneuver Kutter once showed me.
Tycho knows it, though, because he responds instantly, slipping free and sending me to the ground to pin me there. It’s so quick, so effortless, like he was born to do it.
I once asked him what he liked about soldiering, and I remember him telling me how much he enjoyed the weaponry, the drills. The training.
I’d match blades and spar from sunup to sundown if I could.
The purpose.
We’re both a bit breathless, staring at each other.
“You miss this,” I murmur.
“Not all of it.”
We hear the creak of a carriage coming down the lane, and we both look. It’s an older vehicle with rusty springs, being pulled by two aged geldings.
I sigh.
Tycho laughs under his breath. “Do you miss this ?”
“Let me up. I can show you how to fix carriage springs.”
But when we climb to our feet, we’re surprised to discover that the carriage doesn’t go all the way down to the forge. It stops in front of the bakery.
And then, as we approach, we’re shocked when the door opens and it’s not a random traveler who steps out.
Instead, it’s the king.