by T.M. Nielsen
***
Kyrin woke up, at first unsure where she was. She saw Alric’s bedroom though and then looked around, but he wasn’t there. She glanced at her arm and saw that the infected wound was healed, and her sunburn was gone.
She got to her feet slowly and noticed some clean clothes sitting beside the large bathing tub, which was full of warm water and bubbles.
Kyrin stripped quickly and sunk into the water. She’d dreamed of the feel of water but had begun to believe she wouldn’t feel it again. As she washed the soot and grime from her body, she kept a close eye out in case someone came in.
She was pleasantly surprised that the clothes were pants and a tunic, and she slipped them on and brushed her hair before tying it up. A knock startled her, and she grabbed her flail and moved back by the window.
“What?” she asked.
“Breakfast, my Lady.”
“Okay”
A servant came in with a smile and put a plate of bacon and eggs on the table along with fresh fruit and hot sweet rolls with mounds of honey butter. Another came with a pitcher of water, and then both bowed and left.
Kyrin was starving, so she sat down and immediately dug into the food. It was so hot it burned her mouth, but she kept shoveling it in. Just before wiping her hands on her shirt, she smiled and then washed her hands in the bath water instead.
Once finished, she started out of the room with her backpack to see if she could find Alric. Two knights were waiting outside of her door, and she frowned. “Am I being detained?”
“No, my Lady,” one of them said, smiling. “Lord Alric just wanted to make sure you had what you needed.”
“So you aren’t here to make sure I don’t kill the king?”
“Well, we’d prefer if you don’t, but that’s not why we’re here.”
“Oh, well… where is Alric?”
“He’s gone into town for a few hours.”
“Where’s Finn?” she asked, starting down the stairs. She wanted to go pick more apples and fill her pack with them, in case she needed to make a hasty exit.
“Ma’am?”
“What?”
“He’s… well… Captain Finn died.”
She frowned and looked at him. “He did?”
“Yes, my Lady. He died last year.”
“How?”
“Qualsax warrior attack.”
She had the sudden urge to go pay a visit to Qualsax but planned on doing that later to get the revenge that Alric and Trox had spoken of the night before.
“So it’s true. You are back,” Trox said from the bottom of the stairs.
“For now,” she said, watching him. She still got the impression he didn’t like her.
“If you’re going to stay, we should make amends.”
“Why? Is there a law that if I stay for a while, we have to get along?”
He seemed amused by that. “No, I guess not. However, Lord Alric made it clear that you are a priority of his, and as such, it would behoove us to at least try to get along.”
