A Court of Dark and Decay

Chapter 18- Salvation

It was still dark when Nesta was awoken by a knock on her door and a heavenly smell.

"It's witchin' time, steel eyes!" Henery hollared from the other side of the door, fully dragging Nesta out of the depths of her sleep. 

She sat up, streching and yawning. It felt weird to rise before the sun, like she was exempt from nature. 

Nesta rubbed her eyes as Henery shouted again. "Hey!" He pounded that gnarled cane on the door.

"I'm up." She replied, swinging her legs off the bed.

She saw the cloak on the floor, remembering why it was there, and quickly moved to stand up from the opposite side of the bed. Her tote was on the floor, contents strewn about. 

Nesta reached down and picked up the only thing she could think to be appropriate for 'training'. 

A plain white blouse, a leather vest she had taken from a one night stand, and the same dark pants she had worn the day before. She had no shoes that would work, so she laced up the ones she had also worn the day before, unfortunately with a small heel. 

That wouldn't work. Nesta look a glass shard, wrapped it in the hem of her shirt as to not cut her hand, and wiggled the heel lose. She pulled it off with a swift tug. 

These makeshift shoes would have to work. 

She laced them up, musing at how they felt, and the carefully padded to the door, avoiding the glass. It would have to be picked up later. She swiped her cloak off the ground, turning her face away and giving it a few good shakes, then wrapped it around herself and exited her room. 

A faint light illuminated the stairway at the end of the short hall. The crackling that accompianed it told Nesta it was from the fireplace. Something smelling warm and kind and sweet filled the air.

She bounced down the steps, lively with energy only the anticipation of good food could spark, and found Cassian and Henery sitting on the couch. 

Cassian went completely still when he saw Nesta at the bottom of the stairs. She suddenly was very concious of the tight leather, showing her figure. Her thin, frail, whithered body, on full display. 

And yet, his honey brown eyes were soft as they met hers.

Cassian stood. "Good morning." 

Nesta only nodded at him.

Henery clambered off the couch as best as he could with his dramatic hunch, and bapped Cassian on the shoulder. The Illyrian yelped and rubbed the spot Henery hit him. 

"You didn't say good morning to me." He mumbled to himself as he gestured Nesta to follow him to the dining room. "What, only say good morning to the pretty females?" 

Cassian smirked as Nesta passed him and followed the old man to the dining room. 

Since it was only the three of them, the space seemed much less crowed. Henery had prepared baked honey cinnamon oatmeal with bits of warm apple. Nesta held back her sigh as she took a bite. At least she was staying with someone who could cook. 

Cassian watched her very closely as she ate.

Henery grunted as he sat down- on a chair this time- and looked over Nesta. "Glad to see you eating, witch." 

Nesta spoke around a mouthful of the bake, "Ith delethiouth."

"Pardon?" Henery chuckled as he scooped some into his own bowl. 

Nesta wiped her mouth. "Sorry, I said it's delecious. Thank you." 

Henery looked at Cassian.