Seren narrowed her eyes. “Sounds more like a fancy way of saying ‘sharp piece of metal.’”
“That’s what people with boring swords say.”
“Fine. I’ll find a way to get it back from Seth.” She loosened her sword holster.
The change in subject offered a tenuous peace, and I didn’t want to break that by explaining my sword’s significance. But neither could I let her risk her life by going after it. “Let him keep it for now. I’ll take it back when the waters settle.” I peered at her. “I take it you have a personal history with him?”
Her face shuttered. “We were bedmates. Nothing more.”
Oh, there’s clearly more to it. Noted.
Had she been in love with the bastard?
He clearly hadn’t loved her if he was willing to hand out twenty vicious lashes to her back.
Prying into her past wasn’t worth the effort. I sat with effort on the rug near the stove and tugged off my unlaced boots. The damned whip had landed on my ass more than once, making sitting a challenge. But Seren’s mother truly was a gifted healer. Considering the beating I’d taken, I should be in much worse pain. The walk to the tent had been agonizing, every step torture, and it had taken enormous effort to keep these people from seeing me falter.
But for now, more pressing matters took priority. I’d managed a quick sponge bath and relieved myself after Lucia finished bandaging my wounds, but I was still thirsty and starving.
“This is my first marriage,” I said with the vaguest hint of humor. “And I’m not sure what the customs are in—what do you call this place? Viori? Or is that just the name of your people?”
“The people are the Viori. The land is the territory. Each tribe has its own encampment.”
“I suppose technically you’re all Pendarans since you’re in the Dreadwood,” I mused, stretching. The movement sent pain flaring through my back. From the widening of Seren’s eyes, it was clear she felt it, too. So fucking strange. “Either way, do you all eat here?”
She smirked and went to the small pack she’d brought into the tent. Kneeling on the rug, she unrolled a bundle of cloth, revealing a hunk of cheese, some bread, and grapes. Then she withdrew dried strips of meat and a corked bottle. “I got a few things to eat from my mother. It’s not much. Tomorrow it’s market day and I’ll get our own provisions.”
The food was a far cry from the splendid dining in Ederyn—or even the barracks of Pendara. But gnawing hunger forced me to be humble. “Thank you.”
Lifting a strip of meat, I asked, “What is this?”
“Venison.”
I sampled it. Not bad—chewy and salted—but edible. The bread was soft, the cheese earthy, but perhaps being famished probably made it taste better. She took a swig from the bottle, then held it out to me.
Wine. It reminded me of drinking with soldiers after training in Pendara, except there we drank mead. I sipped it. Passible, but nothing like the Ambran vintages I preferred.
“So, what happens if I try to escape? Let me guess, your people hunt me down, bind me again, and make me endure another delightful wedding night like this one?”
Seren rolled her eyes. “If you try to escape, they’ll kill you on sight. No iron chains, no second chances.”
I raised his hands in mock surrender. “Ah, death. The Viori answer to everything. That and impossible trials where, I’m certain, they barely give you a sporting chance before you’re murdered in front of a crowd?”
She ignored my barb and popped a grape into her mouth. “The Skorn is meant to be just.” With a rueful look, she added, “But you’re right … most people aren’t equipped to last in the arena. If we do survive, though, you’ll be free to come and go from the territory, which will make it easier for you to find a way to leave for good.”
Her brow furrowed in thought. “We’ll need a strategy for the Skorn—we’ll need to play to our strengths. You’re Sealed, so you should be fine with fighting, but they don’t always make it a fair fight. In the meantime, if Seth or anyone else suspects you’re not really on our side, they won’t hesitate to throw you to the wolves—or worse.” She paused, glancing at me. “You can’t act defiantly like you did today. You’ll need to show restraint—act as if you want to belong here. If you can do that long enough, we might have a chance to break the bond quietly and then you’re on your own.”
I doubted it was that simple. “Unless, of course, we can’t break the bond. In which case, I’m not letting you leave my side.”
She froze, a grape poised between her fingers. “And why’s that?”
“I’ve spent the last few years training to be the best. The fastest. The strongest. But I’m only as good as my weakest link. And right now, you, Seren, are my weakest link.”
Truthfully, I was less worried about surviving her people’s fucking test than I was about her not surviving it—which would mean my death too, thanks to this bond. This was a nightmare. My eyes narrowed. “And I find it hard to believe you’ll let me go. I’m dangerous, aren’t I? Your logic is flawed.”
She rose, a flush creeping down her neck, then flicked a gaze at the food. “Finish whatever you’d like then put it away. There’s a clean pair of trousers in my pack for you, since yours are bloodstained. I’m going to bed.”
Moving to the bedroll, she removed her boots, then lay on one of the pillows and turned toward the tent panel, not bothering to get under the sheets. She probably had a weapon close at hand.
