MARKS- Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

It’s not until we get out of the water that I realize what I’ve done. Saints above. I didn’t think through putting a dry dress over a wet shift. What in the world do I do now?

I let Ward use my towel then glance down at my dress. Ward must notice my dilemma. “Put it on without it,” he says.

My eyes fly up just as heat swarms to my cheeks again.

"I can hang it to dry with your fabric,” he says. He hands me back my towel and makes a show of turning around.

Stars above. His back is turned, but he’s mere inches from me. I peel off the wet shift, cursing when it snags on my arm.

“You need help?”

Heavens. “No,” I snap. I towel off and pull my dress on. There’s no way I can lace up the back on my own, but I dare not ask for help. I reach as far as possible, my shoulders straining in agony as I grab the laces and tighten them. “All right.”

Ward turns, and even though I’m dressed I feel as though I’m naked. I was just in my shift - a wet one at that - but with only my dress and no shift on, I feel as naked as a newborn baby.

Ward takes the wadded up shift from my hand. “I would ask you return the favor, my lady.”

Favor?

Ward’s cheeks flush red. “I have another pair of pants in my trunk. Do you know where it is?”

I nod.

“Think you can get them and bring them to me without anyone seeing?”

I salute him with my right hand. “Yes, Commander.”

He smirks then moves to the back tunnel. I grab my towel and walk to the main room. Everyone is still enraptured with the storyteller, and most don’t notice as I slip the ribbon in place and stroll to our corner of the room. I throw my towel over a chair. Raising my hands to the ribbon holding my hair, I gaze across the room and ease toward Ward’s trunk as my brown hair tumbles past my shoulders. I sink to the ground, my eyes now on those in the crowd, especially the blanket where Nolan sits with Blair.

Clive is telling the stories tonight, and it’s a credit to him that no eye strays to me when I open the trunk. A pair of brown pants sits on top. Part of me is elated that they’re right on top and part of me wishes I had a good excuse to rummage. What else does Ward have in his trunk? All necessities? Or does he harbor sentiment and keep something from his childhood in here?

I shut the lid before I’m tempted to rifle through Ward’s secrets. Rising to my feet, I clutch his pants to my chest and slip down the tunnel. Ward stands in the middle of the room, water dripping around his toes.

“I should’ve brought you a towel,” I tell him.

He reaches for his pants and his fingers brush over mine. “That would’ve been suspicious.” He winks and grins at me, and I could melt into a puddle on the floor. Ward stares at the pants in his hand then at me.

“Oh.” I’m such a daft idiot. “I’ll go.” I pick up my skirts and turn.

“No need,” Ward says. “Just turn around.”

I nod, half turned already. The rock wall I’m staring at blurs and my cheeks warm. Part of me feels like I should be confessing at church. Not because I’m in the same room with a naked boy, but because being in a room with this naked boy sends a thrill bursting through me.

Heavens.

“All right.” Ward’s voice is sure and solid.

When I turn, he’s flinging his wet pants over one of my clotheslines. His shirt is on now, too, and his boots.

I study the bits of color hanging from the line. Things that seem too small to use; too little to make a difference.

“Ward?” I bite my lip then make myself look at him. “What now? Will they try again to poison the Chancellor?”

Ward runs a hand through his hair. “No. They’ll expect something like that. The Chancellor hasn’t left the castle much since that night.”

“So what happens now?”

Ward leans onto my worktable. “We keep using Lyrans and their words. Something is up with the prince of Faraday - I can’t tell what - but he’s visited the castle twice this winter. I’m trying to find out what I can.”

“Does that make you a target?”

He shakes his head. “No more so than usual.”

A million more questions explode in my mind but can’t find their way to my mouth. Ward risks his life every day, poking the great dragon who is our King. And one day that dragon will notice the guard asking too many questions and darting into sewers to save girls. I wish I could shrink Ward down and tuck him in my pocket so that he’d be safe and always with me.

I open my mouth, words stuck in the back of my throat.

I’m worried about you.

I wish you wouldn’t leave.

I’m scared.

I close my mouth again, my words unspoken. It wouldn’t help Ward to hear my worries, and if I unpack anything with him, it needs not be my fear. Time may not be kind, and I’ve wasted enough years with fear and regret.

Ward tilts his head and smiles at me. He takes my hand and turns over my arm, then pushes back my sleeve. My marks seem to have faded, though of course they haven’t. That’s just me wishing they had. Or perhaps the truth of Ward knowing and accepting them lessens their stain somewhat. I think I could have tallies of sins all over my body and Ward wouldn’t care. Maybe then I wouldn’t either.

Ward bends and kisses each mark. And it’s as if they vanish under his touch. I wish I could ingest Ward; that he could kiss all the scars and hurt inside and make them vanish, too.

We head out of the tunnel and he drops my hand before we enter the main room. It thrills me, this secret between us. I never knew a secret could be so life giving. We listen to the last story, then I kiss Liddy goodnight and settle down on my bedroll.

The room still hums with the sounds of people settling down when Ward sinks onto his own bed beside mine. He lies on his back, firelight dancing off his face and turning it into a mosaic of light and shadow. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, but when I sneak my hand out from under my quilt he captures it in his. Minutes pass, but I don’t close my eyes. Neither does Ward, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as though he’s gazing at stars.

Night settles on the room, nothing but the pop of the fire and the snores of sleeping men filling the silence around us. I should be exhausted, but having Ward so close fills me with energy like nothing else does. He turns over and faces me. Then he reaches his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, pressing my back to his chest. He tugs his quilt up to cover us both then drapes an arm around me. I sigh, contentment washing over me. He presses his lips to my cheek, then settles behind me, his body curving to mine.

My dreams are peaceful, full of sunshine and summer days and a hut in the woods I’ve never seen before. Mama is there. And Papa and my brothers. A sweet peace and happiness overtakes me and lingers through the rest of my dreams.

When I wake up in the morning, my dreams are gone. And so is Ward.