Gunter’s eyes glinted. “Reward? And how will a penniless maiden and impoverished monk reward anyone? With smiles and feelings of gratitude?”
Anger burned through me, eating away at my resolve and intelligence. “Aye.”
“I am to understand that you will travel through Soravale before you head to the Diamond Mountains?”
“Yes. That is what Arrick has suggested.”
“Then I suggest, fair maiden, that you learn to lie better.”
The breath left my lungs in a gush. By the time I’d worked up the ability to speak again, he’d already gone. He walked slowly over to where his horses were penned, holding a hand out to them in a gentle gesture that contrasted starkly with his gruff aura.
Arrick approached from the other direction, so I reluctantly tore my gaze from the newcomer I did not trust to meet the eyes of someone I could reluctantly admit I was growing to trust a great deal.
He paused near us and nodded toward his friend and enemy, “I see you’ve met Gunter Creshnika.”
“Friendly fellow,” Oliver grunted.
Arrick’s lips twitched but his gaze stayed steady on me. “Did he bother you?”
“No.” Arrick raised an eyebrow, forcing me to explain. “At least no more than you do.”
This time I was rewarded with a chuckle. “He doesn’t trust people by nature.”
“I’m not faulting him for that,” I answered. “Some might say you trust people too easily.”
“Are you speaking of yourself?”
“Not me,” I smiled at him. “I wouldn’t dare insult your kindness.”
He stepped closer to me, forcing Oliver to move back. “And yet, it feels as though you are.”
I felt myself lean into him. “I’m merely suggesting that you could learn a few things from your friend.”
His lips twitched. “When the Cavolia set up camp, they allow their horses to sleep in their beds with them. And when they kill an enemy, they bleach their bones and wear them around their waists as belts.”
My gaze flicked to Gunter as he leaned in to nuzzle his horse’s snout. “That cannot be true.” Gunter’s long leather coat hung to his calves, blocking any view of bone belts that might be there.
“Even stranger still, they share their wives.”
My mouth snapped shut and I tore my gaze from Gunter to Arrick. “You don’t mean…”
He nodded confidently, “I do mean.”
Oliver’s face flamed red and he abruptly excused himself.
“What is your point?” I asked Arrick, keeping my eyes fixed on his face, instead of gaping at the Cavolian women and men like I wanted to.
Arrick stepped forward again, letting his fingers trail along the inside of my wrist. “My point is, Tessa of Elysia and Heprin and the Temple of Eternal Light, while he might know better than to trust you, he isn’t really an expert on all of the wise things of this world.”
Some magic danced through the air, warming my skin and belly. I leaned closer to him, hypnotized by the mystery in his eyes and the compelling twist of his lips. “But you are, Arrick Westnovian of the Blood Woods and Commander of the Rebel Army?”
He flinched. Just barely. I wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t been staring at him. But there, in his eyes was a moment of doubt… or regret… or…
He bent down brushing his mouth against mine. I lost my breath at the sensation.
My mind blanked and a too-hot haze covered every inch of my skin. I had expectations and hopes and something like desire blooming inside me, but as hastily as he had kissed me, he retreated.
This time when I struggled for breath it was out of frustration.
“Sir?”
I swallowed down a new wave of embarrassment and followed Arrick’s gaze to one of his men. Arrick looked as discomfited as I felt and I reveled in the red flush covering his neck. “Yes, Dravon?”
“The meal is ready,” Dravon answered stonily. His eyes darted to mine briefly before returning to Arrick’s. “If you are.”
“I am.” Arrick cleared his throat and straightened his tunic, even though it wasn’t askew. “I’m ready. Feed the people. Don’t wait for me.”
Dravon nodded, “As you wish.”
Arrick didn’t hesitate. He held out his arm, indicating that I should take it. “Shall we eat?”
My mind flashed back to my past life, the one before chaos and grief and pain. I hadn’t taken a boy’s arm in years. Since I was a child.
I hadn’t been the recipient of manners this courtly since… I reached up to touch the gemstones dangling around my neck, the sense that I was missing something stirring inside me once more.
“What are you doing?” I asked him, wondering why he stood there like a chicken with his arm cocked at the elbow, frozen in mid flap.
“I’m supposed to do this,” he sighed. He played with the finery draped over his shoulders. “My father told me.”
“Well your father doesn’t know everything,” I argued. “You look like a lost chicken.”
He growled at me, but then his blue eyes lit with victory. “There,” he pointed at my father as he mirrored the gesture to my mother. She linked her arm in his and he led her off toward the dining room. “See?”
I glanced down at the shimmering gold of my gown. It would stand out against the stately blue of his tunic. But I liked that.
Trying my best to mimic my mother, I slipped my arm through his and nibbled on my bottom lip in an effort to keep from smiling.
He stared at me with wonder, his bright eyes dancing with confusion. “That feels…”
“Strange?” I whispered, hating that my stomach seemed to plunge to my toes.
He shook his head. “No, Tessa. That feels nice.”
“Tess?” Arrick asked, still holding his arm out to me much like the little boy in my memory.
“Thank you.” I linked my arm with his and ignored the bubble of warmth fizzing through me and that buzz of something sharper, something I was not yet ready to discover.
Dinner was an extravagant affair compared to even the hearty meals of the
