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He narrowed his eyes. What would possibly possess them to stop mentioning it?
The door to the cottage creaked slightly, echoing in the morning quiet. Footsteps crunched in the snow. He turned to see Selis coming toward him around the corner of the cottage, two steaming cups in her hands.
He turned his eyes back to the pillars, contemplating as she approached.
“It’s too cold to be out here like that without some magic by your side,” she grumbled. “Or some tea.”
“Some magic?”
She nodded. “There are mages who can make heat in the winter. But I’m not one of them. So I make tea.”
He smiled and accepted the cup.
“Well, are you going to just stand here all day, or are we going to go have a look?”
Smiling wider, he said nothing back, just took a sip and started up the hill.
“You are a religious man, aren’t you?” She followed along beside him. “Or more than that? A priest?”
“Not exactly.” He tucked his free hand in his pocket. It was going to sound ridiculous to explain this situation to someone else. What by the gods did he think he was doing?
“Not a priest. All right.” She paused for a while as they walked. “Something else?”
“You’ll think it’s ridiculous.” They reached the edge of the pillars, and he slowed to a stop. He kicked at the ground, feeling sheepish at the conversation in spite of the beauty of the stones and how much he wanted to take it all in. Stone covered the ground around the shrine, laid in an intricate pattern and surprisingly smooth and worn, like deep-gray river rock. There were no rivers around here, though. How had it gotten that way?
Selis stepped toward the center of the pillars. “Love makes us do ridiculous things, sometimes.”
He looked up sharply, ready to deny it. Her grin over her shoulder told him he’d already given himself away. His shoulders slumped. Might as well be honest. He’d likely be dead if it weren’t for Selis and Iseris anyway. What did he have to hide from them? He sighed. “True. It does.”
“You do know that she’s a mage, don’t you?”
“Yes.” His eyes went to the ground again, lips set in a thin, bitter line.
“And that she healed you and saved all your lives?”
That eased some tension hiding in his shoulders. “I hadn’t been certain, but I suspected. Thank you for confirming it.”
“What are you exactly, young man?” She leaned against a far pillar, facing him, clearly comfortable here. “And why are you tied up as tight as a bundle of herbs?”
He inhaled a sharp breath and met her eyes, squarely. “I’m a knight. Devoted to Nefrana.”
There was a flicker of fear in her eyes, even if her lips held their same amused smile.
“I’m a knight who was ordered to kill a mage by my queen and her son. A very particular mage.”
“Ah.” Her eyebrows rose slowly, like clouds shifting in the sky. “And yet, the mage lives. Do I understand you correctly?”
“She does.” A smile crept into the corner of his mouth. “Yes, she certainly does. And so do I. For now.”
“Did you know about her magic?”
“No. I didn’t believe her to be a mage at first. But—ultimately, I learned the truth. I got a special stone to test it, and it lit up like the sun.” He kicked at the ground. “I could never have killed her, though. Either way. Never.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Nefrana likes you, I think. You and your friend.”
He scowled, even as the dream and the horses tugged at him, urged him to believe her. “Why by the gods would you say that? Nefrana’s service is all I’ve ever known, and now I’ve had to leave it.”
“For a woman?” Her voice was sly.
