Page 16 of Reaper’s Curse

“Glad to see you got a good night’s rest,” Winter said by way of greeting. “After all you’ve been through, you surely needed that.”

He filled my glass with a mellow morning juice.

“We both did.” After accepting his offer, I took a sip and sighed. Then I glanced over his impeccable attire, but more importantly his refreshed facial features. “You’ve been through more than your fair share as of late, too.”

A twinkle of laughter sparked in his eyes. “I have, haven’t I?” He turned his head and gazed past me, as if he could see into the rooms beyond. “Your things were delivered late last night after you’d already passed out. I took the liberty of having them deposited in your receiving room. You don’t have much.”

My muscles tightened, and I braced myself for the inevitable questions my reaper’s handbook would undoubtably bring. Trying not to let any tremble of my hand betray my nerves, I concentrated on setting my glass down with one smooth movement.

If Winter noticed any wobble in my motion, he pretended not to. The look on his face was more contemplative than curious or concerned.

“Only one small bag of clothing was delivered. Is that really all you brought for your trip?”

I bit down on a nervous smile, waiting, still waiting, for the horrid question to drop. “I didn’t know what to expect when I packed. I guess I hadn’t anticipated being here this long.” I dragged a drawn-out, cleansing breath through my chest. “Looks like I severely underestimated.”

Winter chuckled. “No worries. I’ve already sent word to a seamstress. We’ll have some things made for you in no time.”

What kind of things? Dresses? Fashionable tunics or pant outfits? I might have reluctantly agreed to taking a room in the palace, but I would not start dressing like a royal or one of their servants. Plus, I wouldn’t pay for new attire, and I definitely didn’t need or want their charity. Winter was taking liberties that weren’t his to take.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I said, my throat growing tight.

“Don’t worry.” He reached a hand across the table and patted my arm. “You know the seamstress. It’s Camilla, and she will create whatever you desire. Anything from dresses to more warrior-looking leathers, as I’ve noticed you prefer.”

“Camilla?”

The woman who had helped nurse me back to the land of the living? The woman who had been put out when Winter showed up at her doorstep and thrust my care upon her?

Winter’s hand shifted, his fingertips gliding ever-so-lightly down my arm and over my hand, where he began to trace the lines of my long, slender fingers. He studied his movement, as if memorizing everything he saw.

I bit my lip against the tremor of sensations his skin sparked against my own.

With a muffled cough, I extracted my hand from beneath his touch and picked up my fork. Began to eat. The distractions of the crown prince were not something I should entertain for so many reasons. The two most significant being the queen’s request and the fact that I was a reaper on a task.

Conversation stilled while we filled our bellies. I chose not to pursue the idea of Camilla, the seamstress, making my new wardrobe items, and Winter never dropped any reaper-related queries.

I savored my meal, devouring it slowly, and allowed Winter to finish before me. After all that I had been through since setting foot in Veritas, my stomach had managed to tangle into strangling knots.

My wounds were healing well…thankfully. Faster than I would have expected. But then again, I’d never been wounded in such a manner, so I had no basis upon which to judge.

Reapers did the reaping, so even though we were not immortal…hence the existence of the reaper’s reaper, the Killian…and clearly not impervious to injury, we were fast healers. Of course, I wouldn’t mind if the healing was faster still. Several areas—my shoulder and side, especially—were still pink and cripplingly tender.

Thankfully, I could easily hide the remnants of the bump on my forehead with a slight adjustment of my hair.

“Raven.” Winter shifted his chair to better face me and gingerly collected my hands in his own. “Now that you’ll be staying with us for a bit⁠—”

The main door to the outer hall slammed open with a room-echoing bang. Someone clearly wanted to make sure they were heard through every space of the apartment.

Does no one in the palace bother to knock?

Both Winter and I snapped our attention toward the glass doors leading to the bedroom just as Valen strolled into view. I leaped to my feet, clutching the front of my robe closed. Winter rose slowly with an annoyance-touched grace.

Valen practically sneered when he spotted us together on the terrace, me doing exactly what the queen had requested me not to do—fraternizing with the crown prince.

But I had not sought his company. He’d come to me. So, fixing that particular dynamic would take a few relationship adjustments.

“Oh dear,” Valen said. “I do hope I am not interrupting, but the girl and I have much to cover today, and I would prefer to get an early start.”

“Oh. B-but I…” I stammered and glanced between Valen and Winter.