“You need to change,” she said.
“What?”
“Your cloak.” She grabbed her spare Hale cloak from her pack and tossed it to him.
He caught it, but held it away from him, clearly not enamoured with the thought of wearing Hale colours. “Planning to hide me in plain sight?”
“That’s the idea.”
She reached for the clasp at his throat before he could protest. He watched her closely as she tugged his crimson cloak free, her fingers tracing the line of his neck as she did so. His breath hitched slightly.
She swung the green fabric over his shoulders and he murmured, “You know, this feels suspiciously like you trying to dress me.”
Her fingers fumbled with the clasp. “Try not to look too much like a fugitive,” she said dryly.
He gave her a long look. “I’ll do my best.”
She stepped back quickly, pretending to inspect her work – though really, she was taking in how the green set off his dark hair, made his eyes brighter. It looked good on him. He watched her with a faint smile.
They mounted and rode side by side in silence for a while. Kara stared steadfastly on the road ahead, but her mind kept returning to that morning in camp, their magic twining together, him standing so close, what would it be like if he’d leant in and–
Focus, Kara.
The storm damage surrounding the Hale road was reminder enough. Shattered shutters, destroyed herb gardens, citizens making repairs. The devastation was everywhere. No, the world didn’t have time for her distractions. It warmed her heart, however, to see how her people were managing. In every doorway they were salvaging what they could, working together to retrieve unbroken jars of herbal remedies, and sweeping the debris into neat piles.
Late afternoon, the sky darkened without warning. The wind hit them fast and angry, strong enough to bend trees and tear down fences. Sebastian grabbed her arm and hauled her off Whisper.
“Get down!”
Kara dropped behind the wall beside him, rain pelting her face and stinging her cheeks. The guilt was plain on Sebastian’s face, but he didn’t look surprised.
He expected this.
The storm tore through in minutes, and Sebastian stood the second it cleared, water dripping from his cloak. Kara made to speak – to reassure, to say something,anything– but he cut across her.
“Fatàn’s an hour north-east. Let’s move.”
She obeyed him without comment. The last Hale village before the border was small – a square, a well, and a handful of stone houses. Herb bundles hung drying from doorways, filling the air the scent of something familiar – echinacea, maybe. Kara pulled her hood low, and kept her head down.
I’m just another traveller.
They’d almost made it through when a Fatàn trader caught sight of them from behind a table strung with glittering necklaces and bracelets. She leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Something pretty for the lady?” she asked Sebastian in a thick accent. “A gift for your wife?”
Kara opened her mouth, mortified. “Oh – no, no, we’re not–”
But the woman was already holding up a pendant of polished sea-glass, smiling knowingly as if Kara’s protest was the most predictable thing she’d heard all week. “Newlyweds, yes? I can always tell.” She looked directly at Kara, her grin widening. “The way you look at him.”
Kara wanted the ground to swallow her. Sebastian’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter.
He’s never going to let me live this down.
“We’re really not–” Kara managed.
The woman winked. “Not yet. But soon, I think.”
Sebastian cleared his throat. Kara refused to look at him.
The woman held up another pendant. “This one’s lucky. For new love.”
