Chapter Twenty Three
Llandry rose early the next day after a troubled, restless night. She stepped softly through the house, fearing to find Devary still asleep on the sofa. There was no sign of him, however, and she felt a guilty flicker of relief. She sat down, tucking her legs under her. She was wearing the trousers she had bought at Draetre’s night market, and she felt both freed and rather exposed in them.
A clatter from the kitchen drew her attention, and she wandered thither. Devary stood with a cup in one hand, the other thrust into the pocket of his trousers. He was tousled and sleepy, his shirt untucked and his hair unbrushed. He looked at her expressionlessly, offering no response to her shy smile.
‘Good… morning,’ she said, glancing at the dark world outside. ‘Not that it se
