Page 83 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

“Tolerate,” she corrects. “At best.”

They trade jabs, familiar and unguarded. There’s an ease between them I haven’t earned yet, but it makes me want to.

Rosie laughs, guiding her horse between them. “Children, the both of you.”

Grier mounts silently at the front, but Finn nudges his horse beside him and murmurs something, and I catch the faintest twitch at the corner of Grier’s mouth.

We ride out as the sun crests the horizon.

I guide my horse alongside Gemma’s once we’re outside the castle grounds. She glances over, still holding that warmth.

We pass through the quiet city, market stalls still shuttered, early workers sweeping storefronts as our hooves echo against the cobblestone. The sign for The Mossy Barrel swings gently ahead.

“Look at that.” I nod toward it. “Our spot.”

She rolls her eyes. “You didn’t see me in The Barrel. You saw me in that dank alley.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I draw closer. “I noticed you the moment you walked through that door.”

She glances at me, skeptical.

“You were wearing that fox mask with that ridiculously adorable tail. Your dark hair was loose and catching the lamplight.” The memory washes through me. “You moved through the room like you owned it.”

Her eyebrow arches, that skeptical look still firmly in place. It only makes me want to prove every word.

“I watched you claim that stool like a throne. Watched the bartender abandon everyone else just to talk to you.” I shake my head. “I was jealous before I even knew your name.”

She laughs, bright and surprised.

“Fletcher?”

“Even now, hearing another man’s name come out of your mouth fills me with irrational jealousy.” I lean in. “It’s a problem; I’m working on it.”

She shakes her head like I’m hopeless, and I swear the harder she tries not to smile, the more it undoes me.

“When you left with that guard, I followed without even thinking.”

“You followed me?” There’s surprise in her voice, but she’s smiling now, with her teeth catching her bottom lip like she’s trying not to let it show how much she likes hearing this. Fuck, that smile hits me square in the chest every single time.

“I would’ve followed you anywhere that night.” The honesty in my voice surprises even me. “That part hasn’t changed, little fox.” I mean it more than I’m ready for, and it must show because her breath catches.

The warmth in her face fades as quickly as it came, and her eyes drift somewhere far away.

“Hey.” I soften my voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have⁠—”

She shakes her head with eyes fixed on the road ahead. There is a long pause before she says, “I just wish things were different.”

She doesn’t say more. The weight in her voice tells me everything and nothing at the same time. She’s carrying something she won’t let me near, and it pulls at me more than I want to admit. And still, I lied to my father for her. Told him her references were solid when I’ve never seen a single one. Vouched for her past when I can’t even name the village she came from. And I’d do it again. That’s the part that should terrify me, but it doesn’t.

We ride in silence for a while, not uncomfortable, just…heavy with things unsaid.

The road opens as we wind through countryside that grows wilder with every mile. The city smell gives way to pine and wet earth. Oak and ash crowd the roadside, their bare branches knitting together overhead, reaching toward the gray sky.

By dusk, the inn comes into view, warm light spilling from the windows beneath a swinging sign that reads The Wandering Hart.

We’ve been riding all day. My legs ache and my back is stiff, but there’s a lightness in our group that wasn’t there this morning. Finn has Grier actually smiling while Rosie and Gemma have been trading stories. And Gemma…Gemma has been looking at me differently, softer and more open.

Grier dismounts first. “I’ll secure the rooms.”