Bend Her novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Glove

I sat down on the snow beside him and waited for him to wake up.

It took a long while.

When his eyes opened, the amber was dull with sleep.

For a moment he looked at me as if he did not trust them.

Then he went rigid.

"You should not be on the bridge," he said.

"Neither should you."

"I sleep better here."

"On a stone, in the snow, above a gorge."

"Walls make it worse."

He sat up and shook the snow from his horns.

"On bad nights, I cannot be shut in. It is not your concern."

"You burned your hand for me."

"It is healing."

"Show me."

He tucked his left hand against his side.

"Linnet."

"No lies," I said.

He sighed, and let me look.

The clawed palm was red and blistered across the middle.

I did not touch it.

"It will mend," he said.

"Gisborne is awake. He will want to see my wrist."

"Then we go in, and you show him a ward that is not working.

"You look as frightened and as grateful as you can."

I did.

Gisborne kissed my forehead over the breakfast table.

He turned my wrist in his soft hands, and the cut iron looked whole under his thumb.

"There now," he said. "You look rested."

"I slept very well, my lord."

"I knew you would."

He left an hour later with the inspector.

The carriage rolled out over the bridge, and I watched it go with my jaw aching from smiling.

Ansel stood at my shoulder.

"He believed you," he said.

"He believes everything I show him. He always has."

"That should worry you."

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