Because if I didn’t, someone else might—and that could be far deadlier.
Chapter 10
Rykr
Lucia wiped tears from her cheeks as she placed a bouquet of goldenrods on the single, large bedroll in the tent where I’d woken earlier. Seren’s mother had barely spoken to me all evening—like I was the one who had roped her daughter into this situation. This … marriage.
She bowed as she passed me. “May Bryndis grant you?—”
“Mother, don’t.” Seren set her hand on her mother’s forearm. “Thank you for all the provisions.”
Lucia stiffened. “What sort of mother would I be if I didn’t help you set up your own household? I’d hoped it would be a day of celebration. This is not how I imagined any of my children’s wedding days—especially not the first one to wed.”
Wed was one way of putting it. Being flogged, shackled, and held against my will wasn’t how I’d pictured my wedding day, either. Dalric and Thorne would have gotten a hearty laugh from it.
Are they still alive? If I ended up so deep in the Dark Forest, where did Thorne go? Had my father put out a search for me, knowing I hadn’t been captured?
Seren hugged her mother. “It’s been a long day. Get some rest. If fortune is on our side, Father will return tomorrow.”
Paling further, Lucia nodded, then left, closing the panel tightly behind her.
Seren checked the fire in the stove—it was already cold in here—then came toward me. “Hold out your hands.”
“Why?”
She sighed impatiently. “Just do it.”
I did, and she pulled a sharp metal pick from the braid in her hair. Inserting it into the lock, she gave it a twist, and the irons clicked open. Then she knelt, repeating the process on my ankles. She stood, setting both sets on the chair.
“Impressive.” The relief on my skin was immediate—I hadn’t realized how much the restraints bothered me until then.
The metal pick twirled between her fingers with ease, then she trailed the tip against the stubble of my jaw. “If you give me even the slightest reason to, I’ll carve your eye out with this pick, understood, Lirien?”
So that’s how it’s going to be.
I leaned down, my voice low and mocking. “You know, there are easier ways to flirt. All this eye-carving talk—it’s giving mixed signals.”
“Keep talking, and you’ll get a clearer signal.”
Straightening, I grinned. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. Nothing says romance like casual death threats.”
Seren’s expression didn’t change, but her grip on the pick tightened. “It’s survival, not romance. Don’t get any ideas.”
I shrugged. “Trust me, if I ever write a love story, it won’t start with ‘Once upon a time, I was beaten, bound, and married by force.’”
Clearly despite her best efforts, the scowl on her pretty mouth twitched, the corners of her lips threatening a smile.
I had no doubt she’d try to fight me if necessary, but her threat intrigued me. “If I’m so dangerous, why take my irons off at all? Trying to impress me with your bravery?”
“Because in this tent you’re not a prisoner. We have to live here, sleep in the same space. Basic comfort isn’t a gift in our camp. It’s a necessity. So don’t make me regret this.”
I studied her, noting the tension in her shoulders. “Or you trust me more than you’re willing to admit.” I wasn’t sure if it was bravado or sheer stupidity. Probably the latter. “You’re the one who wanted to kill me. Hell, you would still probably kill me if it didn’t mean your own death.”
“You want my trust? Earn it. Your kind have hunted my people for centuries. Lirien soldiers killed my friend, just last year. Burned him at the stake to set an example.”
“If they burned him, he wasn’t innocent. Your people dole out just as much death as they receive.”
“You really do want to get stabbed, don’t you?”
