“How else was I meant to interpret that?”
He just shakes his head. “If you’re still too angry to accept my offer, then you can ride with Jaro. Either way, I will always ensure you get what you need.”
“I’m not angry at you anymore,” I retort, not really realising the truth in those words until they’re out there. “I understand why you took me away from the battlefield. I know I wouldn’t have been much help.” I hate the honest truth, but I can’t change it. “And if I got killed and Elatha got hold of me again…” There would be no escape a second time. “I just want you to be a little less… heavy handed.”
We’re silent for a minute. I have the oddest feeling I’ve rendered him speechless, so I continue, changing the subject back to the matter at hand. “How can wedoanything if you can’t even look at me?”
The redcap blinks back beside us, this time riding backwards in Wraith’s saddle, his cap now stiffer, with a pinch in the crown. “Blindfolds are kinky, but I’m not going to judge—”
“Lore, leave us alone!” It takes me a second to realise both Drystan and I snapped that at the same time.
Of course, the redcap doesn’t take offence. He merely blinks away again, cackling as he backflips onto Wraith’s back.
“Onward, noble steed!” he cries, racing to join Jaro and Bree in front. “We’ve angered the beast!”
For a second, I manage to hold it back, but then my face cracks, and the laugh breaks free, anyway.
“I know I can’t kill him,” Drystan mutters under his breath. “But sometimes I really,reallywant to try.”
Six
Drystan
Rose hasn’t spoken since we yelled at Lorcan, and I’m becoming concerned. Even when we stopped on the bank of the Renfraw to allow her a chance to wash and eat, she was quiet. I expected a dozen questions about the river, the flowers, heck, even the sky.
I despise this ridiculous uncertainty that’s been plaguing me all morning. Her earlier confession stunned me. I hadn’t expected her to fold so easily, and now I’m uncertain what to say. Should I say anything at all? After all, if she’s no longer angry with me, it’s probably best I don’t open my mouth. At least until she’s at least come twice and I don’t have to worry about her hurting herself. But she hasn’t brought up my offer again.
Has she changed her mind? Is she unwell? Headaches are a symptom of a burgeoning fever…
I used to hate that I knew the signs so well, but the knowledge was necessary. My mother isn’t above using one of her ladies to ensure the continuation of her line and pressure Cedwyn into taking me as his heir.
Deliberately forcing my mind away from that subject, I check Rose’s hands again. She’s not restarted her scratching. Good. Looking away, I blink until the sunspots from her aura disappear. I don’t want to let her get to that point again, but even though I suggested this, I’m not sure how to broach her needs again. So I stay silent, waiting for her to say something.
It shouldn’t take long. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that she has a seelie curiosity. I can’t believe she’s lasted more than an hour without asking at least one question. We’re about to reach the old bridge that marks the point where the river breaks free from the southernmost point of Lake Orvendel. Surely when she sees the early third-era architecture, it will provoke some kind of response.
Being this close to the river is dangerous, but unbeknownst to Rose, I’ve had a strong glamour over us since we left. If the Fomorians dare come close, they won’t see anything, and we won’t let them live long enough to hear her.
“Rosie, look left,” Jaro calls from in front.
The shifter has been in an unbearably good mood since yesterday. It probably has something to do with the fact that he’s still wearing her dust like a peacock. Ass.
Rose jerks like she’s been jogged from a trance, looking up with a smile.
“I think I saw it that time!” she mutters.
Saw what?
But she forgets all about whatever she was doing when she spots the expanse of crystal calm water.
Orvendel is a sight to behold. It’s one of the many beautiful baubles that the Spring Court likes to celebrate, for all that its northern shore is technically Winter Court territory, and its western shore sits in Elfhame. On a calm day, the water reflects the sky so perfectly, you might think it was a huge mirror.
“There’s a tree in the centre that marks the boundary between Winter, Spring, and Elfhame,” Titania explains, floating along beside us.
The Second Nicnevin has been here for a while, though the first and third are still apparently on whatever missions Rose gave them. I suspect that—while one is with Florian—the other is almost certainly keeping an eye on Caed.
If Rose was any kind of general, she’d have sent them to watch over Elatha and report back on his movements, but she doesn’t think like that. As useful as it would be, I’m loathe to suggest it and let her work her way further into the thick of the war effort.
“It takes three days to walk all the way around,” Titania adds, flitting down to hover beside the horse.
