Page 76 of Ashborne: Defiance

As if she heard my thought, she continued, frowning. At first she stared at Koa, but the longer she spoke, the more distant her gaze became.

“At thirteen, women of my parents’ class are expected to begin preparations for becoming a wife to a noble, and running an estate,” she said, her nose wrinkled in distaste. “If they’d allowed me to study the breeding programs and management of the land, I might have settled. But those aren’t women’s tasks. No. Instead, menus,” she said with a scoff. “Flower arrangements. Planning meals. Learning to interview a tutor—all skills that are necessary, I know. But, it was nothing but sitting, speaking quietly, directing others to action when I just wanted to move. The only active pastime I was allowed was horsemanship. So, I spent every hour on horseback I was able. But the older I grew—and especially when I reached marriageable age—the less the men around me showed an interest in a woman who could outrun and outjump them.” She blinked, then glanced warily at me once more. “On horseback,” she emphasized. “I do not pretend to be an athlete. But I am strong, and unafraid. I always prayed to find a man who was as deeply driven to ride as I was. Yet, the men I met weren’t amused when I was able to make good on the bet to beat them back to the stables. They stopped wanting to ride with me.” She stopped, chewing her lip. “Why are men like that?” she asked. “Why does it burrow under your skin to be challenged by a woman? Because I watched the men jest with each other, and laugh when one of their friends bettered them, and merely challenge them to another attempt on a later day! But if I did it… Well. You can imagine, I’m sure.”

“I can,” I admitted, though I also fought a smile at the picture she painted. My squad-brother, Jhoare, also liked to ride horses before he was Chosen. I wondered if she would have outjumped him?

I would have paid money to see it if she could.

“You see! You think it’s funny—you’re thinking about beating another man, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I was thinking about you beating a friend of mine,” I said honestly.

That surprised her. “Oh… well. Yes.” I watched her, giving her space to finish the tale, and was relieved when she did. “In any case, it’s become obvious in recent months that my chances for making a match with any of the heirs were dwindling to nothing.”

“So, your parents chose a man for you? A peer of your father’s?” I asked, confident that I’d seen the situation clearly.

She gave me a curious look, but nodded. “I ride when I can. I get out whenever possible. I am not a fighter. I am a sneak, but to protect myself, not to attack others. Being in Fyrehold without my parents was a boon. A gift. A freedom they allowed me as a balm against the coming prison of a marriage I didn’t want,” she said, lifting her chin as if she resisted shame. “It wasn’t right of me to disappear, and I do regret the worry I’ve caused. But this? Koa? Flying?” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I suppose I am selfish. Because I won’t give it up. Now that I have had a taste of true freedom, I won’t go back. And if they try, if they take me, I’ll escape at the first opportunity that presents itself.”

Small points of color rose in her pale cheeks, and a surge of arousal smacked me in the belly, like I’d been punched. I had to look away from her, and then the bite my tongue.

Her expressed feelings were far more familiar than I would have expected to find in a noblewoman of her status. But even as I empathized with her, a cold thought struck me.

Even if every word she said was true. Even if her heart was pure—and even if Vosgaarde hadn’t been thrown into civil war… perhaps even more so then. What would happen when she was eventually uncovered?

People like her parents didn’t just throw up their hands and decide their daughter had disappeared and there was nothing that could be done.

Undoubtedly, men like her betrothed, didn’t take kindly to losing a pretty, strong, young wife.

So, what would happen when, one day, word of her appearance in Vosgaarde made it to the right ears?

Would they blame me? Say I’d kidnapped her?

Would she put those skills of obfuscation into practice and use me as a scapegoat?

How would I ever prove my innocence?

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before I removed you from Fyrehold?” I snapped. “What you describe is a powerful father, a powerful fiancé, both of them even more powerfully connected.”

Her brows pinched over her nose. “Yes, but—”

“And while I concede that I would also flee that kind of control, the fact that you’ve run without informing me means that now, whenever you’re discovered, everyone is going to look straight at me for an explanation.”

Her expression faltered. “If that were ever to happen, I would tell them the truth—”

“Would you?”

“Yes!”

“And would they believe you?”

“Of course! How else—”

“You said you’ve become very good. That they no longer think you sneak out, correct? They trusted you to go to Fyrehold alone. They didn’t expect you to flee. You’ve clearly done an admirable job of convincing everyone—as I was—that you were nothing but a flighty, young noblewoman. And if they believe that, who do you think they will believe is truly behind your ability to escape the kingdom?”

Her throat bobbed. “I don’t deny that there would be questions, but—”

“But nothing, Grace. You’ve tied a millstone around my neck and told me to swim on without a care,” I growled. “You tell me to trust you, and feed me a story of your innocence, yet obscure the truth long enough that I cannot correct it without placing myself in the path of blame.”

“I wasn’t even thinking of you when—”