Chapter 13 #2
“Emilia passed that on?” I sigh. I don’t know what I expected.
“She told Alfie, Alfie mentioned it to me in passing. He was worried for you,” Idris admits slowly. There is a slight pause before he continues. “Is it helping?”
“Other than last night?” I ask, taking my hands back before shrugging. “It’s better than being up for four days straight.”
Idris closes his eyes for a moment, seeming not to have known that snippet of information. He blows out a sharp breath before smiling and standing up.
“Alright, well, just up the road is a good spot for an early breakfast. A lot of the dockers come through to pick something up when they don’t want to wake their families early,” Idris says.
I follow him back out the front door and into the early light.
The sunlight is gentle as it brushes my face with salty fingers.
The rippling water is quiet and soft. The boats creak and groan, rocking and tugging on their ropes like children turning over in their beds.
The docks have a few more people around them now, everyone looking at Idris and me as we walk slowly.
I dare to look at him, that familiar shot of acid eating away at my eyes and lungs.
Idris seems preoccupied with thought, but his face remains neutral, sharp jaw highlighted by the fresh dawn and his gold hair gleaming in the amber rays.
He doesn’t push my slow pace, keeping his hands in his pockets and his shoulders pulled back.
“How did you know? About … last night?” I ask quietly. If he wasn’t involved, how did he know to save me in time? Idris turns his golden eyes my way, assessing me with a small furrow on his brow.
“Still think I would hurt you?” he asks with swollen words. I shake my head. He had ample time to kill me last night. The perfect opportunity, but he fought for me. Used our bond to make me fight. To reignite the spark I thought had been smothered.
“I was looking into the rumoured explosives. Not long after the curfew was announced, I was with Tahira and Royah, following a couple of leads in a pub when we overheard a quiet group gossiping about how some men had banded together and that…”
Idris trails off, face running with emotions so quickly I can’t catch them all.
“Some of the City Guard were involved. My guard assigned to protect me,” I whisper in answer. “It was planned, for a while at least.”
Idris nods, eyes narrowing. “Yes.”
I look down at my hands, picking at a nail as Idris points to a small corner shop. The smell of bread, frying eggs and coffee wafts out. Already a short line waits patiently at the window for their food.
“Fancy some eggs?” Idris offers with a forced, bright tone.
“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” I answer, shaking my head.
“You should have something,” Idris frowns. “You’ve lost weight.”
“And you’re an arrogant prick. Are we passing judgements about each other now?” I snap back sharply, folding my arms.
Idris doesn’t rise to my bite, and guilt swarms me like a cloud of vicious bees the minute it leaves my tongue. I close my eyes, turning away from him to look over the harbour. I shake my head.
“I’m sorry.” The apology bubbles on my lips as I raise a hand to my brow, wishing I could rub some sense into myself. I’m all over the place at the moment. No wonder I’m falling apart.
“It’s alright,” Idris says then chuckles. “I can be a prick sometimes. Perhaps I was too blunt. Wait here and I’ll be back in a moment with breakfast.”
Before I can argue he disappears off to the window.
The distance between me and him lessens the flames and whispers, allowing me to soak in the simple beauty of this calm dockyard.
I rest my elbows on the metal railing, separating me from the chilly water a pace or two away.
I take in a lungful of the clean ocean air, letting the salt burn the raw flesh of my throat on the way down.
A rare moment of true quiet to be richly savoured.
It doesn’t take long for Idris to return triumphant.
“Right, here you go,” Idris says, handing me one of the two bundles between his fingers.
It’s a thick flatbread, wrapped around fried potatoes, onions and eggs.
I take the warm parcel between my fingers and mutter my thanks.
I don’t take a bite. My stomach has shrivelled to nothing; the thought of eating brings pre-emptive nausea spasming up my gut.
“Renza.” Idris speaks quietly and carefully, leaning against the railing next to me with our arms barely an inch apart.
“I’ve been watching you almost every day, working flat out.
Forgetting to eat or even drink some days, for hours on end.
You’re not really sleeping either. You can’t lead this city if you’re running on fumes. ”
“Perhaps that’s another sign from Fate then,” I mutter, looking at the food in my fingers. Its warmth soaks into my palm delightfully.
“Don’t say that,” Idris snaps sharply, a note of fear laced deep into those words. “It’s not true.”
“What do you call last night then?” I ask ruefully, one hand drifting up to my throat. “The people don’t want me leading them. They want you.”