She had to brush against him to step inside. The room was like midnight, she thought. Not a single candle lit, nor the fire, and the drapes were pulled tight at the windows.
“The sun’s gone down.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Would you mind if we had some light?” She picked up the tinderbox, fumbling a bit. “I can’t see so well as you in the dark.” The quick flare of light did quite a bit to calm her jumping stomach. “There’s a chill,” she continued, lighting more candles. “Should I light the fire for you?”
“Suit yourself.”
He said nothing while she knelt in front of the hearth, set the turf. But she knew he watched her, and his watching made her hands feel cold and stiff.
“Are you comfortable here?” she began. “The room isn’t so large or grand as you’re used to.”
“And separate enough from the general population so they can be comfortable.”
Stunned, she turned, kneeling still while the turf caught flame at her back. She didn’t flush. Instead her cheeks went very pale. “Oh, but no, I never meant…”
“It’s no matter.” He picked up a glass he’d obviously poured before she’d come in. And now he drank deliberately of the blood with his eyes on hers. “I imagine your people would be put off by some of my daily habits.”
Distress hitched into her voice. “It was never a concern. The room, it faces north. I thought…I only thought there would be less direct sun, and you’d be more comfortable. I would never insult a guest—a friend. I wouldn’t insult someone who welcomed me into their home when they have come to mine.”
She got quickly to her feet. “I can have your things moved, right away. I—”
He held up a hand. “There’s no need. And I apologize for assuming.” It was rare for him to feel the discomfort of guilt, but he felt it now. “It’s a considerate choice. I shouldn’t have expected less.”
“Why are we…I don’t understand why we seem to be so often at odds.”
“Don’t you?” he murmured. “Well, that’s likely for the best. So, to what do I owe t
he honor of your presence?”
“You make fun of me,” she said quietly. “You’re so hard when you speak to me.”
She thought he sighed, just a little. “I’m in a mood. I don’t rest well in unfamiliar places.”
“I’m sorry. And I’m here to impose again. I’ve asked Blair to hunt the vampires now in Geall, to bring at least one of them back here. Alive.”
“Contradiction in terms.”
“I don’t know how else to express it,” she snapped. “My people will fight because it’s asked of them. But I can’t ask them to believe—can’t make them believe—what seems impossible. So they need to be shown.”
It would be a good queen, he thought, who didn’t expect to be followed blindly. And see how she stood there now, he noted. So still, so serious, when he knew a war raged inside of her.
“You want me to go with her.”
“I do—she does. I do. God, I am forever stumbling with you. She asked that you and Larkin go with her. She doesn’t want me. She feels, and so do I, that I’m of more use gathering the forces, helping lay the traps she devised.”
“Ruling.”
“I don’t rule yet.”
“Your choice.”
“Aye. For now. I’d be grateful if you would go with her and Larkin, if you can find a way to bring back a prisoner.”
“I’d rather be doing than not. But there’s the matter of knowing where to look.”
“I have a map. I’ve already spoken with my uncle, and know where the attacks—the known attacks—took place. Larkin knows the land of Geall. You can have no better guide. And you know you can have no better companion, in leisure or in battle.”