Geryn seemed to like it when I spoke firmly.He smirked and took the letter.“This will not get you into trouble, will it?”
“What?No.It is a letter to my brother.How could it?”
“On the Isle, when we moor, they look through our stores.If they ask to read the letter, I will let them.”
“This will be no problem,” I said.“The knight who delivers it can also read it.I do not mind.”
Geryn said, “May I have a kiss for good luck?”
“No.”
“Perhaps when I return then?”He smiled devilishly.
I rolled my eyes, pretending to be annoyed which he appeared to love.
“It’s rare to be ordered about by an Islish woman,” he said.“If it happened more, perhaps the Isle wouldn’t be so stuffy.”
I chuckled a little.“While you’re there, you can suggest people start taking orders from women.See what happens.”
He laughed.“I hope to see you again, fair maiden.”
And then I had a few moments of near-peace.I breathed in the sea wind and took my boots off, dipping my toes into the cold water.
Just a few moments, I told myself, letting the water settle me.I wanted to be home, in bed.I wanted to eat.I was thirsty.I was tired and sore from all the walking and running and the overwhelming emotions of the day.
Dayne will hold back the forces, I told myself.All will be well.
And then,Father.
Thirty-Three
Iwas exhausted, sore, and miserable, but my tasks still weren’t done.After sending my letter to Dayne, I couldn’t leave Rowan to the utter confusion and terror he must be feeling, so I made my way to the clay district and asked person after person for Faller’s home.
I could hear an argument ongoing inside: Faller and someone else.Someone very displeased with the idea of a violent, dangeroussoterin their home.
Before I knocked on the tenement door, I caught sight of Rowan.He was tied to the post of a woodshed in the courtyard just beside the building, his back tight to the post.His arms behind it.Blankets were piled on his legs.
He looked warmer—his colour had returned a little.His lips were pink.But he also looked worse in many ways.One eye was black and nearly swollen shut.
“What happened?”I said, rushing to him, kneeling next to where he sat.
“Gentlewoman, I am not certain.”
I’d forgotten the feeling of speaking to men on the Isle, the idea that some thoughts—anything dark or scary or painful—should be avoided in the presence of a woman.
I felt my face relax into nothingness.Such a familiar expression.“Did you fight?”I said.
“I did.”
A Norsern laugh snuck out of the façade.“Then you know what happened.”
The corners of Rowan’s mouth lifted.“Gentlewoman, I was trying to spare you the details.”
“I am ordering you very seriously right now,” I said.“Stop fighting.Let Faller feed you, give you drink, clean dry clothes… let your strength return.”
Rowan’s face steeled as he looked at me.I was offending him or else frustrating him.His head was tilted back against the post, baring his throat.The one green eye he could open fully glowed with rage.
“I need to know you’ve heard and understood this order,” I said.
