Blood & Shadows

Twenty-Seven

The next night, as I wake up, I find Vrythien dressing not in his doublet but instead black leather armor, though not as elaborate as what the ladies gave him. It fits him well and makes no noise as he moves. He fastens on a matching hood as I watch, and Trysten huffs, pacing around the room, still tending to the overstuffed pack. He smiles as his eyes land on me.

"Good evening," he drops into a quick bow, and Vrythien turns and smiles at me. Trysten clears his throat to get my attention. "In your closet, you had a set of leather armor. I had it oiled, and the bodice resized." He picks it up off the table and holds it out. I can't help but smile as I look at it. It was my last birthday gift from my father. I was supposed to learn to use a sword since I was heir, but I never got to. Around the edge in dark red script reads TO BLOOD AND VENGENCE BOUND. The house motto and embroidered in black on the front are the two ravens of our house sigil. After a quick bath, Trysten helps me dress as Vrythien watches, playing with one of his daggers; he twirls it, watching so very closely as Trysten's touch lingers.

"I'm going to miss you," Trysten whispers as he runs his fingers through my curls with sweet vanilla oil on them. After he pulls back and begins to plait my hair. Something about Trysten's tone makes my cheeks burn, and my scalp tingle and my gaze immediately falls from Vrythien.

"You're just going to miss having someone warm in bed beside you. I'm certain you could cast a glance at Lilyse, and she would crawl right into bed beside you."

He scrapes his nails along my scalp, making gooseflesh break out across my shoulders, and my gaze twitches up to meet his in the mirror.

"I'm certain I could have more or less anyone aside from the one I truly want. But they're all poor substitutes." He finishes the plait with a length of black ribbon at the end and drapes the rope of my hair over my shoulder. Instead of stepping away, he lingers behind me. Suddenly, a blade appears in the mirror, a dagger with its point thrust under Trysten's chin, making him tilt his head back at a painful angle. I turn and look up to find Vrythien standing there holding the dagger, eyes burning like crimson embers.

"Tsk, oh darling, at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone before you try to warm her bed." To drive his point home, he angles the blade, forcing Trysten's neck all the more.

"Vrythien," I chide him, and he glances down at me before rolling his eyes and sheathing the dagger behind him. "You act as though it's all settled."

"Because I know Trysten and what he's capable of." Vrythien places his hands on Trysten's shoulders. "Don't I?" He practically purrs in Trysten's ear before stepping away.

"I thought this was what you wanted?"

"Well, yes, but just not in front of me. I know it's going to happen, and as I said, I've made my peace with it in a purely hypothetical kind of way." He waves his hand dismissively and continues out of the room. "I'm not stupid; I don't expect you to be celibate forever pining for me." His voice is so very soft it's nearly lost to the whistle of the winds against the windows. "You're the Lazthien after all. You have a duty to make little Lazthiens to carry on your House." His voice is even quieter. I glance at Trysten, who's frowning; Vrythien isn't talking to us. No, this conversation is entirely for his benefit alone. "Even if I were to... I don't think we could, anyhow. Vampirism being what it is." He's even quieter. I let out a sigh and head out into the sitting room. '1 Walking in trousers is strange; skirts are so very heavy, and without them around my legs, I feel entirely too light as I approach Vrythien. He's staring out of the window into the violet of early twilight. Without a word, I wrap my arms around him. He welcomes the embrace after a moment of stiffness--something I've noticed he does if approached unaware. As we enjoy each other's comfort in silence, I can't help but think of Orys's poem.