Page 106 of A Cruel Kindness

He always was, but this was doubly so. Ford breathed in, so heavy I could hear it over the sounds of the river crashing. “Room was too small.”

Somehow, in all the years I’d known him, that was the most vulnerable thing he’d ever said.

I knew he wouldn’t want me to press, so I asked, “What happened while we were gone?”

“Another camp abandoned. We were supposed to go see it today.”

“Good,” I said, focusing on the fact that I could work off some energy with a ride and if I was lucky, there would be a Muli soldier left behind who I could tie to a tree while we interrogated him. That sounded fun.

I could pretend he was the Prince. Or Elijah. That fucker was equally liable for delivering the message.

It would be a battle not to punch his stupid face when we saw him next.

“Something is coming,” Ford said. His opinion was one to be trusted. He was here in the early days when things were particularly bloody, a series of advances and set backs that left too many people on either side dead or injured.

He was here when things started calming down, turning into the cooler side of war.

“It seems as if the impending nuptials are intended to prevent that.” I couldn’t say whose without wanting to light something on fire.

Ford barely reacted. I assumed Esme told him when she stopped shrieking about his sweatshirt. Sometimes I thought she needled him on purpose, just to get any sort of reaction out of him.

Ford nodded, but he seemed unconvinced. “I’ll believe that when I have a peace treaty in my hands. Dropping defenses too early would be unwise.”

That I agreed with. “If Peter is as quick as we know him to be, there will be a meeting by tonight.”

Ford laughed, but the sound was cut off prematurely by the door opening behind us. I turned before I consider that it could be Bellamy. She was particularly beautiful in the morning, unguarded and honest.

It was Esme. Wearing a sweatshirt that only went down to her upper thigh. I assumed it was Ford’s.

I turned back to face forward. Ford shot up a second later. “I told you not to steal my fucking sweatshirt.”

He must have changed his mind at some point, because his first response was “Alright.”

He sounded genuinely angry, but Esme just said, “You are no fun,” with an annoyed tone. Less than a minute later, she was back outside in a sweatshirt of her own and pranced off to the main house.

She spent more time with Peter than I did, but I wouldn’t fault her for it. My relationship with him was one of mentorship. Theirs was one of protection and secrecy.

My pack dropped down on the ground a second later, with Ford returning from inside. “You have two minutes to get dressed or I’m leaving without you.”

“And where would we be going?” I was more curious about the cause of his sharp tone than the plan, but the question still stood.

“Investigate that town.”

Oh, I would take any opportunity to get the fuck out of here.

Thank God, Bellamy was still asleep. The cot I’d made was comfortable. A good thing, because I didn’t think I could handle lifting her into bed.

Lucky was deeply annoyed that I subjected him to a ride without Clover, but he busied himself trying to bother Shadow.

Whereas Shadow would tolerate Sky—Esme’s steed—and let him nip after her, she was seconds away from snapping at Lucky.

I drew him a little farther away, distracting him with a harsher pace until we reached the abandoned camp.

It wasn’t until we were cresting the boundary into camp, into the lingering smell of burning wood, that I realized where we were.

Ford seemed to realize it at the same time, his skin going pale with suppressed memories.

Chapter 27