Her mind scread safe, but her heart refused to follow its lead and simr. With every ribbon Silas pulled behind her back, it sank a little lower in her chest, pushing every other organ on its path down along.
The hairs on her body rely reacted to the storm of high running emotions that tackled the rest of her senses.
The temperature around them was not low by any ans, but the nerve endings in her told her it was ti to wrap those hands over her arms and beg for so warmth.
Even though her eyes were glued to the floor, there was no escaping her pathetic reflection. The dress would have soon co off and exposed her filthy body again. Every soiled inch of it, every curve, every shade.
Her lungs ached for more air just to placate that red pump that battered its cage from all sides.
But no matter how much of it she syphoned in, her heart demanded more and more, rendering her gaze hazy.
Arabella internally begged her mind to co up with sothing, anything to distract from that silent hell only she had to suffer. A lick of peace, even if it only lasted for miniscule seconds.
Just a crumb of rest to deafen that thumping that rose to her ears and...
"Ada and Edgar should be ho in a few hours,"
It was Silas’ voice that managed to finally do it! Deafen it all and for more than the asly seconds she pleaded for.
"Will they?" she squeaked, eyes wider and on the wall facing her instead of the floor.
"I had received word that they had already crossed the border earlier yesterday, during my eting with the council,"
It took Arabella a mont to notice that his hands never stopped working. They had just moved to peel the dress off her shoulders.
But by then, Ada’s as well as Edgar’s faces were already plastered on the inner sides of her eyelids. Nothing else mattered...
"Were they alright? Did they look particularly different or perhaps hurt?" her voice remained small.
"According to the wolf people that had been posted near the official crossway through the border, the two of them looked just fine and as healthy as we last laid eyes on them,"
The thin skin covering her softer parts no longer stung with the imaginary cold in the room. Well, the feeling subsided only gradually, that was.
Looking around herself for a mont, her vision grew sharper again and the light from the candles, all of the sudden, beca enough to brighten every corner of that bathroom.
When the gown finally dropped to the floor, only Silas’ warmth lingered, his breath hitting her back harder as if his feet had brought him even closer to her.
"Would you like to leave?" he practically whispered, the deep bass notes remaining, their resonant hum vibrating not only in her chest but against her head too before trickling down along her spine.
"Please, stay," she did not manage to turn around.
He stayed and followed behind her as she settled inside the bath. His hands sank among the long strands of hair that were left to hang free outside the edges of the tub.
"I’d love to brush these soft curls of yours. Would you mind it if I did?" that ti around, his voice was above whispering range but kept its rich and granular texture.
"I would not mind it at all," she scootches her back against the tub to give her husband full access to her hair.
Soon traveled the sound of a little chair being dragged against the ground to her ears, before the shifting of fabric then a soft sigh and finally, the lody of sothing small and solid being handled.
That all ca before the gentle touch of a hand threading her hair, birthing waves of soft tickles across her scalp. The bristles of the brush connected with it next, scratching soothingly in curved lines from the top of her head then down to the very tips of hair.
By all accounts, Silas’s hand was quite skilled and tender at the task. Then again, it belonged to a passionate sculptor that found wonders in crafting details, turning the raw into intricate and outstanding beauty.
If misery had been Arabella’s mother, then luck would have been her father. Was that what life was all about? Swinging through the ups and downs it held?
Despite all of the pain and tears that were squeezed out of her, she still managed to land on the field of priceless gems that was the man seated behind her.
"There was a question I have been aning to ask since yesterday,"
Words had successfully interrupted her train of thoughts before. It should work if she did it too, shouldn’t it? So, Arabella shattered the silence that creeped ever so slowly between them.
"Do ask," he said, his hand not stopping for a second.
"Back in the rear court, on the scaffolding," she gulped her own saliva, "They only had my family mbers as well as Edgar and Ada. When we returned to the castle after you found , everyone was already waiting in the eting room. So, where were the others being kept?"
Silas gave her a soft hum at first, "Upon breaking free from limbo, my first thought was to find you, but sohow, I managed to reel my emotions in in order to think more clearly. I knew I would need help after what you had told and so went after Cynric and Morgana first," he put the brush down but played with her hair so more, "From what I understand, they had been isolated and waiting for their turn to be executed by nightfall. That was one of the prince’s plans to prove that humans could handle nightwalkers at their peak of power with so new weapons they had invented,"
"New weapons?" her spine straightened all of the sudden.
"The General that walked away with you donned what used to be called, the ring of Adam around his finger. Have you heard of those at all?"
"Yes. While I did not delve too deep into weaponry, the ring of Adam was one of the most popular tools that human warriors used to even the playing field against nightwalkers during the great war,"
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