Chapter 11- Compromise

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For the second time in twelve hours I wake up to the face of Cairo Brielle Vinícian. In the light of the day I can see his eyes, the same tawny gold as I remember.

“Good morning! While you were sleeping the day away I think I’ve figured out who you are.” He sounds mighty pleased with himself.

“What time is it?” I mumble, propping myself up on my elbows. I need to get back to the palace as quickly as possible. I dreamed of horrible things happening to Mirabel and Garen, and as much as I hate to admit it, I care deeply about the both of them.

“Nearly seven. Not so late as I may have made it sound,” Cairo conceded.

“I have to get back to my cousin,” dread causing me to sit up too quickly and headbutt Cairo square in the forehead.

“Ow!” He gets up from the side of the divan, rubbing his head. “Calm down Little Ada. Why don’t you have some breakfast and talk to me before you go anywhere.”

Without thinking I snap, “It’s Adelina. No one has called me Little Ada since my designation.”

Cairo merely smirks at me. “Forgive me. Adelina, won’t you sit with me for breakfast?”

I cock my head at him, disturbed that he managed to make me lose my cool. “I need to use the washroom, If you will excuse me.”

He only shrugs as I stand and walk into the little square room. The sink and toilet take up nearly all of the space. A warped mirror hangs above the washbasin, and I can see that my curls escaped their ties during the night so that the dark hair is stuck to my neck and the unruly spirals are sticking up at odd angles. With a sigh I untie the spare band from my wrist and gather my wild hair behind my head. I finish my business in the washroom and step out prepared to have breakfast.

On the kitchen table are a couple of fresh peaches and flatbread covered in goat cheese and blackberry jam. It is the same kind of simple breakfast I would have had at home with Mada. Cairo is already sitting down enjoying his flatbread. Without looking up, he waves me into the only other seat the small table has room for.

As I sit he truly looks at me, and I see the startled look in his eyes when he sees the tattoos that cover the back of my neck and my shoulders. The winding trees, occupied by ravens flow over my shoulders. On the back of my neck the golden eagle surrounded by silver fire feels tingly, almost as if it will fly off of my skin. Surprised, I reach back and run my fingers over the inked skin. None of my tattoos have ever reacted before.  

“You’re a spirit bridge.” Cairo has his next bite of food halfway to his mouth.

“So I’ve been told.” I answer dryly.

He shakes his head in amazement , “It seems like only yesterday you were challenging all the warrior novices to knife throwing contests. As I recall you always won.”

I blink, “I’m surprised a celebrity like yourself would pay attention to the antics of a headstrong thirteen-year-old with something to prove.”

He smiled, most of the shock draining out of his face, “I do when they sing like you can.”

I struggle to stop the flush rising to my cheeks from his praise. I have of course heard compliments on my voice from the elders of the village during my performances at the yuletide celebrations, but to hear them from a musical genius is something else entirely.

“That is very high praise, coming from you. I thank you.” I say demurely.

Cairo frowns. “What are you doing in Cantabrar, if you aren’t here to bring me home.” His voice sounds strangled on the word home.

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