Chapter 33: Little Scarlet Cloak

Impatience was usually not something that plagued Rowan’s mind.

Ser Rowan the Black was always passive, doing what he was told precisely when it was ordered of him. He was barely more than a statue otherwise. That was how he’d survived all this time—by living in the moment and only doing what was required.

But after he and Aster had their little break in the springs… It was as if the water had healed far more than his wound. A part of him that died long ago was brought back to life, and for the first time in twelve years, he felt alive again.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t the water. Maybe it was just Aster. Maybe it was knowing that those eyes saw the true heart of him, or that his hands touched his scars so tenderly, or that sweet voice that called out to him in pure ecstasy—maybe it was all of that and so much more.

“Ser Rowan?”

He blinked, glancing up into the expectant face of Physick Hellena. When had she finished wrapping his wound in a fresh bandage? “Yes?”