Since Esmera was abandoned on a stranger's doorstep as a baby, the only person who has looked out for her is herself.
Until a lark starts visiting her, leaving behind exotic flowers and iridescent pebbles that the internet doesn't recognise.
Esmera...
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Esmera expected the cold nip of the fresh new day when she stepped out onto the balcony. Even so, she shivered, drawing her shawl tighter around her and rubbing her hands over her arms.
Too late, she saw Tauram standing with his elbows resting on the balustrades, looking out at the misty mountains that simultaneously laid his kingdom out before him and hid it from his view. It was the same every day, snow coating the rocky peaks, clumps of colourful houses dotting the landscape, but somehow it was a sight Esmera didn't think she could grow tired of. Tauram hadn't if the way he stared out at it was any indication.
Her hand rested on the doorknob behind her, ready to turn it and slip back into her room to avoid the awkwardness of his company. She bit her lip, weighing out her two choices: fleeing or going to Tauram and making things right. She had been harsh on him the previous night, and worst of all, it had been unwarranted. Just because her past had made her wary didn't mean Tauram was out to hurt her like the men she had known before.
Jammas tugged at her hair. Clearly, he had a strong idea of which option she should choose. Even as she understood him and trusted his judgement, her feet stood rooted to the spot.
Tauram glanced back. Esmera saw him see her. Even worse, he saw her see him see her, taking her choice away from her. It was too late for her to escape back into her room without making things any more uncomfortable between them, so she strode across the balcony, stopping beside Tauram with a fair distance between their elbows. Lundas made sure of that, growling when Esmera tried to inch closer.
Tauram made no acknowledgement of her presence, only gazed out at this section of Milatanur as if it had some fresh new sight to offer him. For all she knew, it did, but the look in his eyes the previous night flashed in her mind, and she knew that there was more to his frosty bearing.
She shifted on her feet, clearing her throat. "May I join you?"
"Only if you want to." Tauram continued to avoid her eyes, and she didn't blame him.
She wouldn't even blame him if he never wanted to talk to her again, but he had to if they wanted to save Milatanur. Even if that wasn't the case, Esmera wanted him to.
She frowned at that but thought about it no more, just pulled her heavy shoulders up. "Tauram, I owe you an apology."
His mouth curved, a shadow of his usual smile. "You don't owe me anything, Esmera."
"But I do." Before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed his hand.
His eyes slid away from the scenery, resting on her, and for a moment, her mind went blank, empty even of the apology she had formulated before she went to sleep the previous night.
Without even knowing who she was, this man had lent her his coat when she was rain-soaked and storm-cold. He had given her a temporary home nicer than any she had ever lived in. His warm arm was always within reach when she was cold or lost or confused, and she couldn't bear to lose that.
