Crescent (Book 1)

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I don't mind the burning. In a way, it reminds me of the day I woke up, surrounded by flames that burned my life away. The bath water is scalding, hot enough to clean away sweat from today's session and thaw my frozen fingers. But not hot enough to drag my mind away from my dreams.

Sometimes, I dream of the witch in the disappearing room beneath the castle. But I dream of Rosie every night. I dream of her laugh, I dream of her little hands dancing across the keys of a piano, I dream of her running down the corridors of White Stag. There's something about the dreams that feels connected. Something about my sister and this place that ties together, but I can't help but feel that if I tug on the line connecting them hard enough... it will all come loose. The tether will slip away, and I don't know what will be left behind... But it terrifies me. The water will never be hot enough to burn that away.

Steam rises in wafts past my face, and I sink back in the tub until the water reaches my chin. My eyes droop closed, and the scent of the bath salts and body soaps fills me. I sink beneath the surface. The water drowns out all sound, and for a few short moments, it's quiet enough to hear my heart thrumming in my chest. A soft staccato beat- steady, strong.

"What are you doing?" I hear a muffled voice, and I jolt upright to find Ceth standing at the foot of the tub. Water drips down my face, and I draw my knees to my chest, covering myself. He's back. "What are you doing?" he asks again, the amusement that usually graces his face gone.

I glower at him, looking over the dark circles beneath his eyes to the navy blue of his tunic and the soaked legs of his pants. He must've been in the snow for a while. "I thought that would be obvious." My hair drapes over the front of my shoulders and my knees cover my front, but I still feel exposed beneath his scrutiny. "Can I get some privacy, maybe?"

His eyes gloss over me, disinterested, and he leaves in search of a fresh pair of clothes from the closet. He disappears for several minutes, and I use the precious moments to scrub the dirt from my heels and fingernails. I lather soap into my scalp and rinse the suds out, but just as I move toward the towel beside the tub, Ceth's voice comes from behind again.

"What do you need from Jackaby?" he asks.

"What?" I angle my body away from him, sinking back as he strips his clothes. He's naked when he comes up behind me, perching his hands on the edge of the tub by my shoulders.

His voice is dark. "Jackaby. You requested to see him while I was gone." I stiffen as his hands find the joint of my shoulders. His touch is soft at first, but then he muscles me back against the edge of the tub. I hiss at the movement. I'm bare to him, all that's left to cover me is my hair. "What... Do you need from him?"

If he's asking, I know better than to play dumb, but the thought occurs to me he doesn't like that I'm curious. There's a reason I haven't seen the inside of the towers yet. "My shoulder," I say, staring forward. "He has a tonic to help with the pain."

"Your shoulder," he repeats, tasting the words. His hands squeeze, his fingers pressing into the scar below my collarbone. It isn't hurting as badly as I pretend, but the pressure now is enough to make me whimper. He stops at my whine, instead leaning down and grabbing the towel on the floor beside me. From the corner of my eye, I see him hold it out to me, and I take it, clutching it to my chest as his eyes linger on me. "We'll have to find time for you to see him before the ambassadors arrive the day after tomorrow."

Is it so close already?

His other icy hand retracts as he rounds the tub and I get a view of his bare ass as he walks into the room. He collapses against the bed, and I stand and swaddle myself in my towel immediately. Dressing and braiding my hair in time for dinner, I'm glad that when I reenter the room, Ceth is passed out against the bed. He sleeps face-down almost like a corpse.

I don't bother waking him, taking the stairs towards the servants quarters where I know Moira and Nic will dine. I'm surprised when I find Saren sitting atop the table, arms on her knees as she speaks with Moira. They all pause when I walk in, and my steps slow as I assess them. Moira swallows, the only indication that she's uncomfortable.

Nic grins, leaning back and watching me.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all, sweetheart."

I ignore the stares Saren and Moira cast my way as I take my seat at the last table setting. I pick up my cutlery and make quick work of the meal, all-too-aware of the growing silence. "Is there something I should know then?"

"We're just placing bets on how long you last until one of the ambassadors finds you out," Saren smirks, and Moira avoids my gaze. It's a dig like usual, but I glance at Moira to see if there's any truth to her words. She winces and I begin to doubt that's the only thing they were discussing. So much for routing for me.

"Hope you didn't bet all your money," my voice is bitter, but I don't feel as confident as I sound. I think of Ceth's hands pressing into my scar not even an hour ago. It would have been so easy for him to wrap those strong hands around my neck and twist. But he didn't, and I'm determined to believe it's because I'll be enough. For my family's sake- and my own.

Nic locks his fingers together in front of him. "I personally volunteered to be your dancing partner. So, at least you'll have that covered."

I dig into my plate in silent reply, but my stomach tightens as I consider just how much I still have to learn. Saren's voice is drab as she rattles off the list of what to expect the next few days. "Tomorrow, we'll skip the glen and focus on that instead. Luckily, you won't be required to dance much until the gala, but... We still need to revisit the ambassadors' names and their respective courts."

"Of course."

So it begins.