IT WAS DARK WHEN Mutter awoke. He was on the pallet. She was curled up next to him. He was hungry again but the warmth of her body was calling to him. He touched her shoulder and she rolled over, her green eyes hazy with sleep.

“You’re awake!” She sat up, touching his cheeks and forehead. “Your fever’s gone.” She started to stand.

He grabbed her arm, halting her.

“I have some food saved for you.” She smiled at him.

He slowly opened his hand, letting her go. She wasn’t for him anyway. She was too young. “I ate it all last night.”

“No. You’ve been sleeping for days.”

He sat up. “That’s impossible.” The night before was so fresh in his mind. He could still feel his fists slamming into the other Guard’s flesh.

She dropped a bag on his lap and sat next to him while he ate. Once he started he couldn’t quit. He was ravenous, but there was only a little meat and he didn’t want bread or fruit. He dug through the bag.

“Sorry. I had to toss a lot of the meat after a couple of days. Today, there wasn’t much that I was supposed to throw away.”

He ate some bread, the crust dry and tasteless in his mouth. “Thanks. This is great.”

She gave him a look that said she knew he was lying. “I’ll have more tomorrow. There’s quite a bit of older meat that the grocer will want me to toss.”

He leaned against the wall. He felt good now, better than good. His eyes wandered over her tiny frame. “I need to leave.”

“Why?” She tried to hide the hurt in her voice, but failed.

“It’s dangerous for you if I stay.”

“It’s fine. No one is looking this way for you. They did the first day. Followed your trail here, but I did a good job of leading them away.” She laughed a little. “I left your clothes at the Lake of Sins. No one will hunt for you there.”

“Why are you helping me?”

She scooted closer, her knee brushing against his thigh. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. Maybe it was because she wasn’t afraid of him or maybe she reminded him too much of the little Guard.

“Why did you kill the Guard?”

“Why do you care, Servant? One less Guard around should be cause for celebrating.” He wasn’t going to talk about the fight. He started to stand and then realized that he was still naked. He tugged on the blanket but she didn’t budge.

“Answer my question.” She wrapped the cloth around her hand.

He tugged again, harder. She raised a brow, keeping her hold on the cloth. He had two choices, lose the blanket or settle back down on the pallet next to her. He sat back down.

“I didn’t mean to kill him. I…I didn’t even know that I had until it was over.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You are a good Guard.” She touched his cheek.

“You know nothing about me.” He turned his face away. He’d always done whatever he needed to in order to survive. That did not make him a good anything.

“You didn’t kill me and—”

“That’s not a good enough reason to risk your life for me. I answered your questions. Now, you answer mine. Why are you helping me?”

She stared at him for a long moment and then sighed. “I don’t know. Not really. At first, I was just going to give you the food as a thank you for…well, for not killing me.” She smiled.

His heart skipped a beat. She was so young and innocent and he was so hardened and ugly.

“But then when I saw all the blood…I felt bad for you. Life on the street is hard.”

He could stand fear and hatred but not pity. He yanked on the blanket, but she held tight.

“I’m leaving. Either give me the blanket or get an eyeful.” He shifted to stand.

“I hate being alone. You need somewhere to stay and I…well, I need someone to talk to, live with.” A blush crept up her cheeks as she glanced at him from under her lashes.

He didn’t know what to say. He’d been alone most of his life, but sometimes he still missed those first few years with his mother.

“Please stay, at least until you’re better. The grocer doesn’t come back here, so you’ll be safe. It’s better than living on the street. Right?”

She was pleading. He should tell her that it never worked, but instead he nodded.

She put her hand on his chest and guided him down. She curled up next to him. “What’s your name?”

“Mutter.” His arm naturally went around her and she snuggled closer.

“Almost like mother,” she said.

“No, like mutt. My sister gave me the name. She hated me.”

“What did your mother call you?”

“My son. Not really a name I could use, so I kept Mutter.” He wasn’t sure why he paused. She had eyes; she knew he was ugly. “It fits. I don’t exactly look like the others. More of a mix of things.”

She leaned up, her hand on his chest. “A good mix. Strong.” She ran her finger over his nose and cheek. “Your eyes are so dark brown they’re almost black.”

He looked away. Soulless most called them. “Scary, I know.”

She leaned closer, resting her elbows on his chest and pulled his face back toward hers. “Not scary. Warm and dark like the night. I love the night.”

Her lips were close. If he leaned forward just a little he’d be kissing her. “I should leave.”

“You’re safe here. I promise.” Her fingers explored his face, finding each scar and examining it. Her eyes showed nothing but sympathy.

It was as if she healed them with her touch. He was no longer ashamed of how he looked. If she didn’t mind, why should he? “What’s your name?”

Hurt flickered in her gaze. “I don’t have one. Not any longer.” She lay back down, still near him but it wasn’t the same.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know. The grocer hates me. He barely looks at me let alone calls me by a name.”

This time he leaned over her, dwarfing her, but she didn’t flinch. “Why?” He couldn’t understand how anyone could hate her.

“I was his daughter’s gift for her eighth birthday. I lived in his house with him and Anna until...”

He waited for her to continue, staring at her tiny face and big eyes.

“Anna died. I didn’t.”

He used his thumb to wipe away the tears that slid down her cheeks. “What happened?”

“Carriage accident. No one’s fault but Anna is gone.” She wiped the rest of the tears away herself.

“He shouldn’t blame you.”

“He doesn’t. I remind him of Anna. She was all he had. All I had.” She flexed her claws. “I suppose I should be thankful. He could have taken me to the House Servants’ Shelter or dumped me, but he isn’t a cruel man.”

“How long has it been since she died?”

“Ten years.”

She’d been alone for ten years. He ran his thumb over her cheek. Her skin was soft under his rough touch. “What did Anna call you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to call me that. That name is the past.”

He leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers in a gentle taste. He’d never thought he’d end up with a House Servant. He’d never figured on ending up with anyone, but somehow they fit. “Sweet. That’s what I’ll call you.” He kissed her again. “You taste sweet and you are the sweetest thing that I’ve ever met.”

She smiled, her eyes glowing in the dark. “I like that name.”

Her lips were open slightly, begging for his kiss. “How old are you?” If she were too young, he’d wait. He wasn’t sure how he’d do it, but he would. He prayed that she wasn’t too young.

“Seventeen.”

He closed his eyes as he lowered his lips to hers. “Thank Araldo.”