Burning Castles | ✓

Chapter 18 - Touch

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∞ | Chapter 18 - Touch | ∞

Citadel Himmel, Sage Cliffs

"Well, at least you aren't limping about like a troll anymore," Adrastea commented as Rhydderch strode across the room to don his coat.

He sneered in her direction and she hid the smile that formed on her face.

"It was just a mere wound, not some slice that had my leg dangling in two separate parts," he snarked.

Wincing at the imagery he so kindly provided, she rolled her eyes in response before getting to her feet. "Yes, a mere wound that had an infection that could kill you. I had to pump painkillers into you," she retorted and Rhydderch looked a little affronted.

"You did?"

"Yes, the wound was deep, no matter what you said and I had to stitch it up."

His face darkened and he stepped closer to her. "Never do that again," he warned, blue eyes flashing as he stared her down coldly.

"Why not? It was a pain relief and I'm sure your wound would recover better if you weren't thrashing around in pain," she explained stiffly, a little taken aback by his sudden vehemence.

Honestly, his mood swings threw her off at times. But Adrastea liked to think that she had gotten much better at reading him.

Her soulmate has his imperceptible telltale signs. How he would often narrow his eyes when he was displeased. His eyes would flash when he was furious, a twitch in the muscles of his jaw when he was frustrated and irritable and a dry retort and a smirk on his mouth when he was amused.

Out of it all, she loved that he was so free and open with how he was feeling around her.

"I don't like being caught unaware of my surroundings. Pain reliefs dull your senses and your reflexes. We're still in a somewhat new ground and I'm not risking it."

She nodded grudgingly, accepting his explanation. Maybe one day, they wouldn't always have to be on their guard. Rhydderch would be free from any of the burdens he was single-handedly carrying and she wouldn't always have to worry about the welfare of those she cared about.

She took note of the way he carried himself and realised that he was off for another trial in the Great Hall.

"You would think that after a week, the trials would have dwindled in number," she said dryly.

Rhydderch shrugged, appreciating her ill-concealed attempt to change the subject. "Circe has rather large dealings and victims of said dealings are baying for blood."

Adrastea glanced away, not wanting to discuss the past nights of the fires lighting up parts of the city. She had simply stayed indoors and shut the windows.

"Speaking about this," Rhydderch began as he checked that he had his customary weapons on him while keeping an eye on Adrastea at the same time. "It would do some good if you were seen at the events. After all, you're part of the rebellion and its inner circle as well as being -"

"No."

The words were said with so much finality that he raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"I can be part of your inner circle, helping you make decisions and planning and scheming - whatever. But," she paused, her light grey eyes focused on him, gaze hard. "I don't want to be a political public figure. Leave me out of it."