Chapter 14 #2
He had used the same mocking tone she had grown familiar with, but something felt different. He sounded more guarded, more distant than before. His bite was gone.
So there was a line even he didn’t want to cross. Not with her, at least. A surprising, confusing spark of jealousy stabbed her gut.
He left abruptly, mumbling some excuses, and Semras watched him hurry to Sir Ulrech’s side. After exchanging a few words, the knight stood away from his meal and walked out of the dining area with the inquisitor.
Semras stared at her meal.
Of course her words had shaken him. As much of a bastard as he was, he hadn’t truly intended to cheat on his lover. Inquisitor Velten was just a flirt, and that was it.
Bitterness still crept up her throat. Even in the privacy of her mind, it cost her a lot to admit she might have felt … something for the impulsive man. He knew just when to push and just when to pull to keep her enthralled.
Semras pursed her lips. It was only plain physical desire. Nothing more. One could be attracted to the worst bastard in existence if they had enough of a handsome face. She wouldn’t be the first woman to have questionable taste in men.
And she shouldn’t forget that Velten was an inquisitor. Not a day ago, that man had been waiting for the slightest proof of treachery to end her life. His every stare was laced with suspicion, and his every smirk, tainted with mockery, as he provoked and hounded her to cross the line.
Caging her between embers and inferno.
She needed to expedite her involvement in the investigation and return home as soon as she could—just as Sir Ulrech had said. It would do some good to her heart and mind to stay away from Estevan. His world wasn’t hers, and each day spent by his side only proved it more cruelly.
The sword he had held under her throat had been clear about it. And even if it hadn’t, the Venator sword-bearers’ fear, scorn, and prejudice were a constant reminder of her otherness. Even now, their attention clung to her every move. Their wary eyes made her feel unwanted.
They made her feel skittish.
Hunger deserted her, and Semras abandoned the remains of the meal for the quiet solitude of the rooms upstairs.
At least his eyes didn’t make her feel like a wild, exotic beast.
Rows of doors welcomed her upstairs.
Discreetly opening them one by one, Semras searched for the one that would lead her to the inquisitor. Empty dormitories, bedrooms, and even one bathing room greeted her before she stood in front of the last room—the one Velten must have retreated into earlier.
She sighed. Another night in close quarters with him seemed more than she could handle at the moment, but she had little choice in the matter.
“Wait,” called out a voice behind her. Emerging from the staircase, Sir Ulrech strode toward her. “Where do you think you are going?”
A sudden longing for her little hut in the forest seized her. Back there, no one had bothered her or barked questions at her that she didn’t feel like answering. No one had stopped her when all she wanted was some blissful rest.
“To sleep, Sir Ulrech,” she replied. “What is this about?”
He glanced at the door in front of her. “This is Inquisitor Velten’s room.”
“Good, I had hoped as much.”
“You are not going in there,” he ordered. The knight gestured toward another door closer to the staircase, behind which she had found a small private bedroom earlier. “You shall rest in there.”
Semras stared at him, dumbfounded. “Inquisitor Velten told me—”
“Inquisitor Velten has ordered that you sleep in that room over there tonight,” he said, pointing at it again. “As you must have understood by now, his will is not to be questioned.”
“I’m certainly aware of his … fickle nature. As for his will, I have challenged it enough for the day. I suppose I will follow it, for once.” Ulrech’s gaze flared with uncertainty, and she let out a long sigh. “Don’t stare at me like that. You look as if I mean to sneak to his side later.”
The knight contemplated her. “You. You have started becoming trouble. Remember what I told you last night about returning home once the investigation is over.”
“Such a good guard dog you make, Sir Ulrech. I’d bid you goodnight, but I fear you will not sleep a wink in fear I’d have cursed your rest.” Walking toward her assigned room, Semras waved at him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She felt more sombre than her airy voice let on. The sword-bearers had grown increasingly discontented with her presence and were no longer concealing it. It gnawed at her, and their presence in closed quarters was tainting her relief at finally spending a night alone in her own room.
Exhaling softly, she pushed her concerns to the back of her mind and entered the bedroom.
Tucked in a corner, the most inviting bed she had seen since leaving home lay waiting for her. A dresser and a small side table furnished the rest of the space, but she barely paid them attention as she dropped onto the mattress.
It felt divine. The blankets were old and itchy, and the mattress was too hard, but it was hers alone for the night. She wanted to make the most of it—and that meant sleeping in a soft nightgown after a long, relaxing bath. Two days of riding had left her feeling gross.
After gathering what she needed, Semras left for the bathing room, then came back after an hour, refreshed and wearing her nicest shift. A minute later, she slipped beneath the covers and closed her eyes eagerly.
And sleep did not come to her.
The witch stayed still for what seemed like hours, her restless mind growing ever more irritable as the night flew by. She could not sleep. An imaginary dread had built up within her, and it now refused to let her rest.
Semras tossed and turned in bed for the umpteenth time. Opening her eyes, she stared at the plastered wall, then forced them closed again.
Something felt wrong. Her hairs rose on her nape; a tingling sensation of not being alone kept creeping up on her. She felt on edge.
When the wood creaked beneath her bed, her ears immediately caught it.
A few seconds passed without it coming back, and she forced her shoulders to relax. Floors creaked from time to time in a building so old, she reassured herself.
The sound came again—this time accompanied by the rustling of fabric against wood.
Her eyelids snapped open. Had she moved the blankets and not noticed in her half-asleep state?
Had she?
This was getting ridiculous. There was nothing and no one in her room. She just needed to turn her head and look, and then she’d be able to sleep.
So Semras turned.
And stared straight into someone’s eyes.