His words from earlier danced through my head, floating on the music.
I thought I was going to lose you again…
But before I could fully grasp my thoughts, he asked, “Did the monks keep you by force?”
His question came so suddenly that I couldn’t formulate an immediate answer. His brows drew down at my silence.
“Tess?” he asked softly. “Did they truly lock you away?”
I shouldn’t have been so candid with him. “I was exaggerating,” I finally told him.
“So you could have left any time you pleased?”
No, I couldn’t have. Father Garius wouldn’t have allowed it. But it wasn’t to be cruel. He kept me there for my own protection, something I had always been keenly aware of. I couldn’t explain all that to Arrick however. So I lied, “I could have. The monks housed me out of charity. Not captivity.” He looked at me in such a concerned way that the next words out of my mouth escaped without my permission. “Although at times it felt like I was a prisoner. I was an orphaned child. And a girl at that. Where could I have gone? I was too young to have any marketable skills. I was, clearly, naïve to the outside world. I had no money or other family. I would have starved within weeks. And if someone else had found me… Well, the possibilities are unthinkable. The monks were the only thing keeping me from ruin. I needed them.” Truth.
Arrick’s fingers brushed over my jaw. I forced my gaze to his and found tenderness waiting for me. My heart responded immediately, stopping and then speeding up until I could barely breathe through the pounding of it.
It had been years since I had felt this cherished. And I didn’t know what to do with it.
There it was again. For a moment he reminded me of someone else. Those bright blue eyes sparkled with an intensity that I had seen before. His mouth pressed into that familiar serious smile and I could have sworn he was someone I knew. Someone I had trusted once upon a time.
But then he started speaking again and all traces of that little boy from my childhood disappeared. In his place stood a man. A man that was caring, but also terrifying. A man that rebelled against king and country and fought for a different kind of world.
“Then I’m glad you had the monks,” he murmured. He leaned in, brushing his lips over the corner of my mouth. Stars burst to life in my blood. I wondered if the entire world could tell that I was as bright as the sun inside. “But now you have me.”
He stepped away, leaving me to stand by myself in the middle of the universe. The heat of the fire warmed my back and the warm night air caressed my face.
“I’m glad of that too,” I whispered to Arrick’s back as he left me dancing with the feel of his lips against mine.
14
The next morning, we prepared to set out once again. Help had arrived for the Tenovians from a neighboring village. Arrick decided that we had done what we could, and he knew I was eager to be on my way.
Oliver sidled up next to me looking as though he had just risen from his death bed. “Are you alright?” I shouted as loudly as I could.
His whole face scrunched up in misery. “Mead,” he mumbled.
At just that moment his horse was brought to him. The rebel soldier who had cared for it held out the reins while Oliver stared at them with a mutinous tilt to his green-tinted chin. “No.”
The soldier rocked back on his heels. “What do you mean no?”
“I can’t do it,” Oliver confessed. “I can’t possibly ride that thing all day.”
“Are you ill?” The soldier looked truly perplexed.
Oliver nodded once. “Of a sort.”
The soldier turned to me. “Is he ill?”
I slanted my head and held his steady gaze. “Does drinking an excess of mead usually make one ill? Because if so, then yes, Oliver is very ill indeed.”
The soldier’s head tipped back and he let out a great guffaw. He grabbed Oliver’s hand, dropped the reins in it, then walked away.
Oliver doubled over and promptly threw up.
“Ack! Oliver! Warn me the next time you decide to lose your lunch!”
He waved a hand at me, “Don’t say lunch!” And then he threw up again.
I turned away. I had to or I would soon join him. Choosing any place but near Oliver, I decided to find the soldier in charge of my horse. It was probably time to get ready.
“I don’t think it’s wise, Gunter.” Arrick’s strong, stern voice caught my attention. I paused at the sound of his voice, just before I stepped around one of the trees that shaded the horse pen.
“Wise?” Gunter laughed. “And caravanning across kingdoms is wise?”
“What choice do I have? I have a duty.”
Gunter’s voice dropped with threat, “Yes, but to whom is this duty owed? Your rebel army or your father?”
Arrick hushed him with a low threat. I couldn’t see them from where I pressed against the tree trunk, but I could imagine the dangerous look playing across Arrick’s face as he spoke words almost too low for me to hear. “I have a duty to this realm, Gunter. You of all people should know that.”
“Aye,” Gunter agreed. “I did just ride from Heprin, did I not? I did earn another favor from you, did I not?”
“And one that you’ll demand I repay, no doubt.”
“Dragon’s blood, Arrick. This mission is suicide.”
“No,” Arrick disagreed quickly. “Leaving her behind would be suicide. And destruction of the realm as we know it.”
Her who? Me? Did they know?
Arrick couldn’t possibly know. And I had only just met Gunter. But why had the Cavolian Horde been in Heprin? What did he mean by Arrick owing him a favor?
“Maybe that’s not such
