Page 16 of Betrothed

Fawn cleared her throat, fixing her dress over her sticky legs. “Well, I might bathe now.”

Zax nodded eagerly. “Can I bathe you?”

Fawn choked, almost dropping the soap. Could he what? Her husband hadn’t even offered that. Did he think her incapable, or was this another thing to cross off his Good Husband checklist?

“No,” she said, too fast. She softened her tone. “I’d like to be alone for a while. Is that okay?”

“Oh,” Zax said. “Okay.”

His tail drooped. But only for a moment. He reached into his loincloth pocket and took out a… rock?

“This is for you,” he said as he handed it over. “I found it as I was gathering water. It reminded me of your freckles. Let me know when you are finished washing.”

He leapt out of the window again.

Fawn stood there, staring at her hands. In one was the soap, and in the other was the rock he had gifted her. It was small and smooth, almost glossy. It was speckled brown in such a pattern that it did almost resemble Fawn’s freckles.

Fawn’s cheeks heated. She touched her offending freckles, something strange churning in her stomach. Guilt? Impossible. She couldn’t feel guilty for this. She was just trying to survive. To make the world right. Who would feel guilty over killing a Skullstalker?

After checking out the window that he was truly gone, Fawn undressed and climbed into the bath. Even with her injured ankle propped safely over the side, it was heavenly. It made her wish she had put the effort in back home, but there was always something more to do in that small town: mend clothes or fix dinner or polish Renly’s shoes.

She lay back in the bathtub, pleased to find that it was so long she could stretch her legs out and her toes would barely skim the other end. She propped her injured leg on the lip of the tub. Then she considered.

Her husband’s family would be looking for her. Or would they? They valued her, of course. But in the same way that they valued good shoes or a carriage. They never seemed to like her very much. Unless she put a lot of time into stroking their egos, which was so exhausting that Fawn rarely bothered.

They could find someone else, Fawn thought. The idea was oddly thrilling. Some other woman to take back to town. Some other woman to make small talk in the market. Some other woman to marry Errol. Why did she like that idea so much? Even if someone else married Errol, she had to go back to that small town she’d spent her whole life in. Even if she had no husband waiting and no real friends, home was home.

Right?

Fawn twisted to look at the rock Zax had given her. She had placed it on the lip of the bath, unsure what else to do with it. She picked it up and held it up to the mid-morning light, confused and wondrous.

No one had given her a gift just for the sake of it. Renly only gave her gifts on her birthday, and it was usually something that benefited them both, like an improved butter churner or more sewing supplies so she could continue to darn his socks.

Fawn shifted in the warm water. She couldn’t think about that right now. Her first priority had to be to escape. Heal, then find some way out of here. She would deal with everything else later.

Six

The bruising was going down.

“This is good,” Zax said as he examined Fawn’s ankle. From a distance, as always. She got nervous when he loomed too close.

Zax sat back, tail swishing in excitement. “You have smelled less like pain in the past few days! Can you leave the treehouse yet?”

Fawn twisted in the nest to look out the window. It was another morning—their fifth together. Each day with his wife was better than the last. She still stank of fear, but less so. It excited him each time he thought of it: no mortal had ever been this comfortable with him before! Except for his brother’s mates, of course. But they were friends, not the companion he had been craving.

“I don’t know,” Fawn said. “I’m still pretty tender.”

Zax dropped to his knees beside the nest. “Please? I will carry you the whole way. You do not need to use your ankle!”

Fawn looked out the window again. Zax waited, the faintest worry coming over him as he remembered Errol and that old woman walking through the woods and talking loudly about Fawn’s disappearance. If they were still looking for her, he would hear them in time to take her away. She would not need to worry about them ever again.

“Alright,” Fawn said after a moment. “It would be nice to stretch my legs. Metaphorically,” she added as Zax looked questioningly at her elevated leg. “Where are—oh!”

She cut off with a yelp as he scooped her up. Even though he did it gently, sure not to jostle her ankle. He even positioned her bare foot on his shoulder so the leg was elevated, as it apparently helped mortals heal faster.

Fawn wrapped her arms around his neck, almost as cautious as she had been that first night. “Where are we going?”

“It is a surprise,” he announced happily.