“Not so many. Most such ill-omened children are set out in winter for the wolves to eat. I will watch here by the door through the rest of the night myself, if you will allow it.”

I let him into the passage to sit on a bench. Once back in the bedchamber I shoved the chair back up against the door and then sat under the quilt in the bed, unable to sleep for the way my blood was pounding. Set out in winter for the wolves to eat! I would just eat those cursed wolves first! Not to mention skewer every night-stalking criminal who hated cold mages.

Vai hadn’t stirred. Asleep, he was so vulnerable. I had once heard him describe to his grandmother the impossibility of a cold mage making his way in the world alone, without a mage House to protect him. Was there no safe place for us?

I meant to keep watch until he woke, but as dawn lightened night to gray, I dozed off.

A spill of water woke me. He stood naked at the side table washing his face at a basin. Seeing me awake, he slipped back into bed.

“Vai!” I cradled his face in my hands as I studied him for lines of illness. “I was so worried about you. How do you feel?”

“Rested and warm, although I’m hungry. Why would you be worried about me?” I loved the way his hands roamed, knowing just how to touch me. “Ah! You’re worried because I fell asleep last night instead of—”

“Last night? You slept two nights and a day!”

“Did I? I collapse sometimes when I weave too much cold magic for too long without rest.” His casual tone reassured me, as did the kisses he flew along my cheek. “It’s no wonder you’re disappointed and fretful.”

“To be sure! Now that you mention it, I suppose I am a trifle sulky and out of sorts, and not just because I spent all day yesterday as an adoring wife ought, lovingly mending your dash jacket while watching over you in your sickbed, and afterward stabbing a man in the hand.”

He drew back. “What?”

“Last night I stopped three men from breaking into this chamber and killing you.”

He got back out of bed and pulled on trousers and shirt before opening the curtains. The view revealed a snowy meadow and ice-spackled stream but no people, although I heard the hum of troubled voices. “I had hoped to stay here a few days to rest, but we’ll have to move on at once. If you feel strong enough after staying awake all night and stabbing miscreants.”

“Of course I feel strong enough! Do you think I am some delicate flower?”

He buttoned up the dash jacket. “Of course not, love. Delicate and flower are two of the last words I would ever consider using to describe you, along with quiet, placid, cautious, and frail.”