46. Archer
Archer
“They’re for… me.” I’m stunned, taking turns gaping at the most beautiful botanical arrangement I’ve ever seen and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. “You did this?”
Saige smiles. “Maybe.”
“Grayson…” I shake my head, moved beyond words.
“You like them?” she asks.
“Very much,” I manage. A lump forms in my throat, thick with emotion and I buy time by breathing in the scent of the blooms. “No one has ever… bought me flowers before.”
Saige beams, her eyes twinkling as she gives me a wink. “Then I’m honored to be your first, General.”
“You’re a menace.” But I return her grin. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”
She takes a few steps towards me and reaches out to squeeze my arm. “My pleasure. Though, I will warn you—we’re short on vases in this fine establishment, so it may be that your prized blooms end up on display in a bucket, or a water pitcher if I can find one amongst the clutter.”
Saige flits about the shop looking for something to put them in, and I stand by the counter, still looking from her to the flowers, touched by the mortal’s thoughtfulness.
While we were weaving our way through the crowded markets, she noticed me looking at the florist’s stall, she saw which bouquet fascinated me the most…
and somewhere between us obtaining the vial of gold from Indigo Jack, and her suffering an intense pain episode, she went to the trouble of ordering them for me.
I find myself wanting to savor the moment, to drink in every detail as the warmth from her beautiful gesture spreads throughout my chest. So when Saige returns, handing me a silver pail with an apologetic grimace, I place the flowers and the vessel down on the counter, and I pull her into my arms.
As though it’s the most natural thing in the world, her arms slide around my waist as I draw her close, resting my chin on the top of her head, breathing in the lilac scent of her soap in her hair.
Saige sags against me, fitting perfectly against my chest, her body melting into mine, her fingers gripping the back of my shirt, as though anchoring herself to me.
I’m struck by the overwhelming need to protect and shelter her, my arms tightening as I feel my walls crumbling down around me.
I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, rapid at first then gradually slowing to match my own.
It’s both a terrifying and liberating feeling, knowing that I’d move mountains to keep her safe—
The shopfront door swings open, and Grim charges inside, followed closely by Yevna.
I swear that dog is out to cock-block me.
Saige springs from my arms, my body instantly cold in her absence.
I don’t love that her first instinct was to pull away from me, to hide whatever this thing is between us.
Yevna throws us a sly smile, and Saige’s cheeks flush.
There’s no denying they’ve walked in on an intimate moment between us, however innocent.
Holding her like that… I take a deep breath.
I can’t get ahead of myself, especially because to my dismay, Raven strides in as well.
“Rave!” Saige barrels into her friend as though they’ve been parted for decades, not just over a week. The two women cling to one another, and I realize it probably is the longest they’ve been apart since they met. Saige only pulls back to examine the fading bruises on Raven’s cheek.
“You’re alright?” she asks quietly.
“Perfectly fine,” Raven reassures her with a smile. “We missed you.”
Saige gives her another squeeze. “And I, you. Come, sit down—”
“How are you feeling? I came to visit when you were ill, but you were in a fever.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Always am, aren’t I?” Saige assures her.
“You don’t always have to be.” Raven searches her face. “I know you put on a brave front, Saige. And if that helps get you through, then sure. But I want you to know I’m here for you no matter what.”
“I know. Thank you.” Silver tears line Saige’s eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “I’m good now, I promise. Thank you. Thank you for looking after me, all of you,” Saige says, her gaze scanning the room and landing on me.
Then the bell above the door chimes, and in walks my brother.
“Always so pleased to see me, Archie,” Daemos says by way of greeting before nodding to Saige. “Grayson.”
Saige’s brows are raised in amusement at the sight of a second Azkari in her shop, who offers Raven a handshake.
“Daemos of the House of Whispers,” he introduces himself. “What might I call you?”
Raven surveys Daemos with an appreciative gleam in her gaze. “Raven Lockhart.”
Daemos looks far too pleased with himself as he glances my way. “Brother, are you going to tell me how you ended up with these beautiful mortal maidens…?”
“Hate to break it to you, but there are no maidens here,” Yevna chimes in, shuffling towards him with a pipe in her hand.
“Just as well.” Daemos doesn’t miss a beat. “I like a woman with experience.”
The old crone thrusts her hand out, which is more of a greeting than she ever deigned to give me. “The name’s Yevna.”
“Daemos.” My brother fucking bows.
As usual, I want to strangle him. The urge only intensifies as he stoops to scratch the wolfhound behind the ears.
“That’s my son, Grim,” Yevna says proudly, her gaze gleaming with approval as Daemos lavishes the mutt with attention.
“We’ve met,” Daemos replies. “Such a majestic creature.”
I look at the slobbering canine with the big eyes and suppress a snort.
Saige elbows me. “Don’t even think about it.”
“About what?” I murmur.
“This… friendship… of ours will be over before it begins if you insist on agitating Yevna,” Saige whispers.
I raise a brow. “Friendship?”
“If you know what’s good for you.”
“Never do, Grayson.”
A melodic laugh sounds from Daemos, but it’s not me or Saige he’s laughing at, it’s Raven. “See something you like, beautiful?”
To be fair, Raven does seem to be ogling him, but her gaze is actually on his ring. “So it is a family signet,” she says, glancing back at my own.
“Ah yes, our dear parents insisted,” Daemos replies, disappointed, looking down at the jewel on his forefinger. “Rather ugly, unlike their offspring. But I’ve grown rather fond of mine over the years.” He turns to me. “I’m surprised you still have yours.”
“Malevron had no use for gaudy old trinkets in Gravereach,” I grunt, hoping that’s the end of it. “Did you at least bring food to make your presence more bearable, brother? I assume you’re here for a reason?”
He tosses a stringed bag on the small table before the wood burner, cheesecloths and a loaf of bread spilling out. “Eat your heart out.”
Avoiding Saige’s gaze, I unwrap the goods, making somewhat of a spread for us to share as we talk.
“Nothing has walnuts in it, right?” I ask my brother. “I told you Grayson is allergic.”
I’m met with an infuriating smirk. “It’s all safe for our bookbinder, Archie. I checked, don’t you worry.”
Rolling my eyes, I fetch a handful of mismatching plates I know Saige keeps in the back and offer them out to the others, all the while feeling Yevna’s penetrating stare boring holes into me.
“What?” I ask her as I hand her a plate.
For the first time since I met her, there’s something other than scorn in her gravelly voice as she replies, “We like a man who can host.”
Nearby, Raven snorts and fails to cover it up with a cough.
“Alright…” My gaze slides back to Yevna, unsure what to make of her comment, not sure why I suddenly give a fuck. “Want a drink?”
“Always.”
“Gin?”
She gives a nod of approval, fussing over something in Grim’s coat. “Also always.”
So like the good Azkari warrior I am, I make the old woman a damn gin.
I listen as Saige fills her friends in on when we met Damoes in the Eldergrove and all that’s happened since, well… not all. But I don’t let my thoughts wander there. Raven talks of the Consortium of Difficult Women, and their efforts to put Malevron off our scent.
“Any progress with the Confluence?” Daemos asks.
Saige perches herself on the arm of Yevna’s chair, nodding. “Quite a lot, all things considered. I’ve removed the deteriorating elements, and tomorrow, I’ll tape up the signatures and sew them onto each other—”
“Layman’s terms if you don’t mind, Saige,” Daemos interjects, and I hate that he says her name so casually when it was not given to him, not by her. It also nags at me that she’s not yet given it to me. So far, she has been Grayson and nothing more. More is what I want now.
While she takes a drink from her goblet, she gives him an apologetic wave.
“Basically, I’ve been working on the structural integrity of the book—so it’s less likely to fall apart.
It’s a big job, but once it’s done, it’s about restoring the more decorative aspects.
Tomorrow I’m hoping to add the gilded edges. ”
“Leo would be proud.” Yevna downs her drink and places her pipe between her teeth. “His protégé restoring an ancient Azkari tome. Is it significantly different to your other work?”
Saige looks at me. “Yes and no. There has been… evidence of magic…?”
“It’s a powerful Azkari object,” I allow. “There is bound to be residual power leftover from its prime.”
“So you’re not concerned?” Raven interjects, brow furrowed.
“I’m always concerned,” I admit. “Malevron has been biding his time, but now he knows we have the Confluence. He will do whatever he can to obtain it. But his minions can’t find us in the mortal realm, not by their usual means.”
“You said they travel through reflective surfaces,” Saige says, chewing on her lip. “You’ll find no shortage of those in the mortal world—water, mirrors, windows, even puddles on the road…”
“True, but these surfaces haven’t been touched by Malevron’s magic. He needs to activate them first,” Daemos replies, cutting into a wheel of cheese. “You should be safe to work on it here, safer than anywhere in the Azkari realms at least.”
Yevna clears her throat. “I’ve heard talk of strangers in town, more than usual.”
“Azkari?” Daemos asks.