Chapter 14 #3
I actually manage to drink my coffee while it’s hot, and eat a few mouthfuls of the sandwich Giulia sets before me, achieving a smile of satisfaction from her after three bites.
Idris is responsible for that change. The feeling I’m not alone in this, that I’m not the single point of failure.
He empowers people to make small, smart decisions rather than put each choice on my shoulders.
Big pictures, important decisions are still mine, of course.
But I don’t need to sign off every little expenditure or personally approve every minor change.
But now the day stretches late. The fading golden light of the autumn sunset softens the streets as the carriage takes me home.
Idris sits by my side, tracing patterns on the back of my hand as we’re jolted from side to side.
The rattling of the wheels fills the space between us, no words spoken.
I think we’re both exhausted after a tumultuous night and an eventful day.
When the carriage eventually stops outside of my house, Idris is quick to exit first, looking around before offering me a hand.
I drop to his side, looking up at my family home.
My sanctuary, my safest space since I was a child.
Idris strokes my hand, the sparks of his touch burrowing like knives into my skin as he pulls me forwards.
He pushes open the front door and the hinges groan softly. My mouth falls open.
Where is all the damage? The broken windows, the smashed columns, the burned furniture?
I step into the room, blinking hard as I search for a sign – any sign at all – that the awful events of last night even took place. There isn’t even a chunk missing from the banister where Idris’s blade buried itself after severing the rope around my neck.
“How?” I manage to choke out through a thick throat and trembling lips.
“People wanted to help out after they heard. Businesses of all kinds came forwards to fix the damage. The girls spent the morning organising everything,” Idris answers, voice both patient and ready – not expecting gratitude but ready for whatever my reaction to being back in this space is.
I blink.
They volunteered to help? To fix it? For me?
Wow. People are so kind. So thoughtful.
Yet all I can see when I look at this hallway are the ghosts of monsters screaming at me.
The place where I curled and bled over my mother’s mosaics.
The spectre of their vicious hands. The bruises and aches around my neck feel so much tighter, like the rope never left at all.
I falter backwards, only to come up against the solid, sweltering wall of Idris’s body.
That arm, strong as iron, sweeps around my front to hold me.
“Renza?”
“I don’t…” I breathe, blinking hard. “I don’t…”
“If you don’t want to stay here, we can leave,” Idris says instantly, his voice gentle as his fiery lips brush the top of my head. “If this is too much, then we can go back to mine. Your room is still there if you want it, and you’ll be surrounded by friends. Tahira, Royah—”
“No.” I clear my throat and shake my head. “No, this is my family home. I won’t let thugs take it from me. I won’t let them make me afraid here.”
Idris nods, holding me tighter and planting a boiling kiss on the top of my head. I let out a breath and close my eyes as I focus on stilling my mind against my reaction to him, slowly letting his fire and fury replace the panic racing like a toxin through my veins.
“Well then, let’s get you fed and relaxing.”
“What are you—?” I squeal as Idris ducks down, knocking me off my feet and into his arms. I laugh, arms going around his shoulders as he carries me into the living room.
He sets me on the couch before going over to the drinks cabinet.
I right myself a bit more comfortably, hands sinking into the plush cushions as Idris returns with a shallow crystal glass filled with honey-coloured wine.
“Enjoy, I’ll be right back,” Idris says, before darting out the door.
I smile to myself and take a deep breath.
I look out through the gothic windows to my left.
Caramel and honey light pours through the frames to shower both me and the soft, plush couch.
The sky is stained with bronze hues, decorated with fluffy, creamy clouds trailing softly in the breeze.
I lean back against the welcoming velvet cushions, tugging off my shoes while the warmth of the sunset soaks into my skin.
My feet ache – particularly my ankle. My limbs are sore; my eyes are tired.
I close them for a minute and breathe deeply.
I’m jolted back into the moment as Idris settles himself on the other end of the couch, pulling my feet onto his lap. He frowns at my sore ankle and his feather-like fingers crackle like lightning as he inspects the swelling and redness.
“You should’ve said it hurt,” Idris says quietly, gently rubbing my feet with his strong, hot fingers. I half groan, half chuckle.
“In the scheme of things, it’s really not that bad,” I answer, sipping my wine. “The last few months have really toughened me up.”
Idris does not like that answer; his brow puckers and his mouth presses into a thin line. “We could’ve got you something for the pain,” he says, as though annoyed. I start to pull my legs away, but he gently resists so I give up.
“I’m fine, or will be with some rest.” I sigh. “I’ll be sure to sit down more often tomorrow.”
Idris nods in acknowledgement of that answer, clearly lost in thought.
“Can you do something for me?” I venture quietly. Idris pauses, golden eyes jumping up as his expression pulls in surprise.
“That depends on your request,” he answers and waits patiently as the question forms on my tongue.
“Promise me that, no matter what, no matter how bitter the argument or how terrible our Soulbond, we won’t go that long without speaking again,” I say, my voice hitching towards the end. I swallow, hoping to alleviate the extra thickness in my throat. Idris’s face smooths out.
“Come here,” he says softly. I set down my wine and shuffle up to his end of the sofa. He gently drags a stray lock of hair back behind my ear before running his fingers down my jaw.
“I promise you,” he whispers as though in some kind of trance.
I smile at him and lean forwards, and it feels like sinking into the abrasive heat of a volcano.
I close my lips around his, savouring the sizzling warmth.
His hand cups the side of my face, angling my head up as he rolls us back against the couch.
His mouth moves slowly, his body a furnace of marble.
I melt around him, skin crawling with boiling needles, heart pounding like a war drum.
He breaks the kiss moments before a servant walks into the room.
“The bath is drawn, sir.”
“Bath?” I frown. It’s probably for the best. I still haven’t washed properly from last night.
“Come on,” Idris says, standing up and taking my hand. “Let’s go.”
Idris pulls me to my feet and leads me upstairs. I follow him down the hall, bare feet slapping on the cool floors, the smooth silk of my skirts washing around my ankles.
Idris pauses at one end of the corridor and raises an eyebrow at me. Ah, he doesn’t know where he’s going. This is the first time he’s been this way. How can that be? After everything, he’s never seen my room?
I laugh, dropping his hand and turning to face him, walking backwards down the hallway.
“Are you trying to find my bedroom, Patricelli?” I say in mock outrage. Idris smirks and follows each of my retreating steps with a closing advance of his own.
“I was merely trying to learn the layout of your house, Maineri.”
“Really,” I tease, stopping outside my door. “So you have no interest in my bedroom at all?”
“Well now, I didn’t say that.” Idris chuckles, eyes sparkling. I laugh, opening up the room and walking inside. Immediately the smells wafting from the bathroom have my shoulders dropping. My limbs feel heavier as I breathe in the sweet citrus fragrance of my bathing supplies.
I head into the bathroom, which is all done out in the familiar cream and apricot marble tiles.
One wall is adorned with my large gold mirror, and opposite that is a huge bronze tub, filled and waiting for me.
A dozen candles in bronze stands cover the counters, and across the tub is a wooden board filled with food, and a glass of wine.
Lemon slices and vanilla sticks float in the steaming water.
I start taking off my belt and pulling the pins from my hair. I place them carefully on the side as Idris comes over to help. His fingers are so gentle with my dark hair, but occasionally his fingers brush against my scalp like burning stars.
Eventually my dark hair falls free around my face and I start to strip off my dress. I don’t waste time, quickly hopping into the water and leaning back, the bubbles forming a modesty layer between me and the world.
I turn to see Idris stripping off too. His chiselled chest is thick with muscles.
He turns to put his tunic on the chair, and I see his back again.
The vicious scars criss-cross across his skin.
My eyes travel down his perfect, toned body.
He turns around, a mischievous glint in those blistering hazel eyes.
“Like what you see?” he asks, walking forwards.
“Just wondering why you’re stripping in my bathroom,” I answer. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“What? I’d like a bath too.” Idris laughs and climbs into the tub at the other end. “I’ve had quite the day, you know.”
“That you have,” I agree as his legs slide up against mine. I repress the groan as those blisters sear into my limbs. Because it’s him, it’s familiar. My Fated.
I lean back in the water, letting the warmth soak into my bones.
“I hope you’re okay with me staying the night,” Idris says quietly.
“I’d prefer it,” I answer honestly. We’ve been apart for so long, not to mention I don’t think I could sleep here alone. “Though you may run into Lysa.”