Just Not Today
SERAPHAE
Ialmost cried brushing my hair this morning back in Twilight.
There was a saying in Thalvarn. The smallest things are the easiest to miss because they seem insignificant until you lose them. Then they don't feel so small anymore.
That was the relationship I had with my hairbrush.
I sighed with great contentment as I worked through hair that hadn't been properly brushed since we left the kingdom.
Then I stayed in the bath for long enough that my fingers turned to raisins and my cheeks went red.
When I opened the wardrobe, new clothes greeted me.
More than before. Dresses in every color, every fabric, fitted and flowing, modest and borderline scandalous.
This was not Caelan's doing. There was only one person it could be.
I went with the lavender one. Long-sleeved, off-shoulder, silk and chiffon that flowed when I walked. Then I adorned it with silver crescent-shaped earrings and left my hair down in smooth waves.
I had spent the entire trip looking like I belonged in a barn. The dress and the jewelry fixed that considerably.
Brie was in the courtyard with a bottle of wine and the energy of someone who had decided that time of day was a suggestion.
I admired her for that.
“There she is.” She beamed and patted the bench beside her.
I sat and accepted the bottle with enthusiasm. Took a preliminary sip. Excellent wine, like always. Sipped again.
She laughed and reached for it. I turned and took one long final drink before surrendering it. After everything that had happened, it was necessary. Important, even. For the sake of mental health and continued functioning as a whole.
“Rough two weeks?” she asked.
“You have no idea.”
We sat and passed the bottle while clerks and couriers moved through the courtyard. I told her about the tavern, the Mourning Wild, the Hollow. She listened without interrupting, eyes widening at certain parts, mouth twitching at others, visibly storing things up.
“So now Maelor is on a mission to help me unleash my potential,” I finished. “Whatever that means.”
She watched me for a moment. Then laughed.
“Maelor would say that,” she said fondly, eyes distant somewhere at the mention of his name.
A cool breeze moved through, and I pulled the cloak closer. Winter was loosening its hold but hadn't let go entirely.
Brie's attention dropped to the fabric.
“New cloak?”
I looked down at Caelan's cloak that I had never returned and wasn’t planning to. I had been wearing it for long enough that I had stopped thinking of it as his.
“Yes,” I said. “Bought it during our trip.”
I delivered this smoothly with a straight face. Lying was a professional skill that assassins needed to have. It was nearly always convincing. It came as easily as breathing. As easy as—
“Mm.” She sipped, watching me over the rim. “It has the royal sigil.”
I looked down, shifted the fabric, and found the clasp. The crown and three stars of Twilight Court, right there, which I had somehow missed entirely for two weeks.
“Ah,” I said. “So it does.”
The black armor on the guards passing was very interesting. I wondered how many times you had to polish armor before it was sufficient. I stared at it for longer than was considered reasonable.
When I looked back at Brie, she was barely managing her expression.
“Anything else happen?” she asked brightly. “Other than surviving against all odds.”
“No,” I answered too quickly.
She looked as convinced as she had about the cloak.
I thought about Caelan. From the dance at the masquerade to his forehead against mine in the forest. The specific warmth of his arms for hours on that horse.
He had given me the day off today. Said that, given all that had happened, we all deserved a day off. Riven and Maelor included.
I wondered how his wound felt, who was changing the bandage, whether he would mind if it was me. He had cleaned my cut on my arm at the inn. It was only right that I repay the favor.
Gods, I wanted to see him.
The realization arrived suddenly and with terrible timing. I wanted to see him in a way that had nothing to do with the bond.
Brie was watching me like she was enjoying every minute of my internal suffering. As if she knew exactly what I was thinking about.
“I have work,” I said and shot up to my feet.
“No, you don't.” She half laughed behind me.
I didn't stop walking. Back inside, up the stairs, down the corridor, into my room with the door shut.
Admittedly, it felt strange not having him close by.
The corridors were quieter than I was comfortable with. No dry remarks landing out of nowhere. The walls were not flirting with me.
I had spent two weeks in constant proximity to him, and now he was somewhere else in this estate and I missed him. That was absolutely normal. And as inconvenient as it was unprofessional.
But being owned by a syndicate had taught me a thing or two, and one of them was to take what you wanted whenever you could. Because I could die tomorrow. Or he could die tomorrow and kill me with him.
I was going to go see him. And there was nothing stopping me from doing it.
Before the thought could settle, I was already out the door.
I walked toward the throne room with a sense of purpose. My cloak sailed behind me with each step down the corridor. A couple of guards I passed clocked the sigil on my cloak immediately. I could see the moment each of them registered it, the small adjustment in their expression.
I had apparently started some rumors.
It should have felt scandalous.
But made me smile instead.
The throne room doors were sealed, four guards posted outside. Caelan was in there ruling his kingdom, apparently.
Before I reached them, a voice stopped me.
“She lives.”
I spun.
Xander stood in the middle of the corridor with his arms open and a grin that suggested he had been waiting for exactly this moment. His clothes were impeccable, which told me he had been living considerably better than the last time I saw him being dragged through these doors.
He was expecting an embrace.
He received a hard punch to the chest that knocked the air out of him.
“Where have you been?”
He rubbed the spot. “Your prince sent me chasing leads on who hired you. One dead end after another.”
It was easy to forget I had been hired to kill Caelan. It was becoming easier by the day.
“There were assassins after we left,” I said. “They were after me, not him.”
He nodded, concern shifting into his expression. “That’s probably where he’s sending me next.”
The weight of it settled between us. They would come again.
It was only a matter of when. Caelan and I were not safe as long as the bond remained.
And outside Primorian walls, the syndicate had marked me for the miss.
So both worlds essentially wanted me dead.
It was both flattering and deeply concerning.
“On a brighter note,” Xander said, smile returning. “The south plan resumes once the bond breaks, yes?”
I frowned. “What?”
“Your contract. The prince purchased your freedom early on.” He held my gaze, reading it, and the realization crossed his features. “He didn't tell you?”
He bought my contract. Didn't mention it. Didn't ask for anything in return. Just did it and kept it to himself like it was a private matter between him and his own conscience.
The doors opened.
Riven came through first. His eyes found mine and held. He nodded once, then something crossed his face that I couldn't identify. Proud, perhaps? Or a quiet acknowledgment of sorts.
Caelan was mid-sentence with an advisor. His silver crown on, black robes immaculate, wearing authority as if it had always been his.
His eyes found me and did a double take. To the cloak, then back to my face.
He stopped speaking with the advisor, and the smile came slowly. “Sera.” Then the smile fell, reading whatever was on my face. “What's wrong?”
I opened my mouth and closed it. The advisor. Riven. Xander. All of them were watching.
Caelan dismissed them with one gesture.
Xander hadn’t moved and then yelped when Riven took him by the shoulder and pulled him down the corridor.
We were alone for the first time in days, and the quiet and the distance between us suddenly felt very short.
He waited. He was good at that.
“Did you buy my contract?” I asked.
His smile had faded. He looked at me as if he was trying to understand the question. Silence stretched long enough that I considered filling it myself.
“Yes,” he finally answered.
The confirmation sat heavy on my chest for a moment as I let it sink in. Xander had told me he did, but hearing Caelan admit it landed in places Xander didn’t manage.
“Why?”
“So they won't come after you.”
The words came too quickly, as if he had rehearsed them a hundred times before. The safer answer. One that I should have accepted and ended the conversation with.
“Tell me the real reason.” I took one step forward.
The gap between us closed until his chest was inches away. I could see the way he was holding himself still. His jaw tight, eyes moving over me.
“Because you deserve to be free,” he said softly.
His gaze dropped to my mouth and stayed there.
I watched him swallow.
My pulse was doing something I was going to have words with it about later. My lips parted because apparently my lungs had an opinion about the current amount of air they were receiving.
I wanted to kiss him.
Whatever space remained between us closed. I wasn't sure who moved. Maybe neither of us did. Maybe the distance just decided it was done existing.
My head tilted up. His breath was warm against my lips. The pull was unbearable.
“Caelan,” I said, barely a whisper.
Desire moved through his eyes when I said his name.
He started to lean in. My heart beat loud enough that I was sure he heard it.
Our lips brushed.
My breath caught—
“There you are.”
Oh, I was going to kill him.
We pulled apart like people caught doing something, which we were, and the look on Caelan's face was the most genuinely irritated I had ever seen it.
“Fuck,” he said quietly.
I blinked at him because I had never heard Caelan curse and I hadn’t thought him capable of it.
Maelor walked toward us with the posture of a man who had no idea what he had just walked into and no reason to suspect anything. “I've been looking for you. Let's try the conduit theory.” He looked at me. “You're not busy.”
“You have impeccable timing, Maelor,” Caelan said.
Maelor smiled, oblivious to the sarcasm. “Let's go.” He waved for me to follow and turned down the corridor.
Caelan looked at me.
Heat moved up my neck. I looked away and followed Maelor without looking back.
We were going to finish this.
I was going to kiss him. I had made the decision. It was going to happen.
Just not today.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe.