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The tattoo on his bicep caught the light. She didn’t know what the words said precisely, only what they meant—who owned him and what he was bound to—and she had a sudden curious urge to trace her fingers along the letters.

Revni hurried outside, the air remarkably cooler now that the sun had dipped behind the hill. Something was wrong with her. She took a deep breath, clearing her nose of the smell of him. It should disgust her, not make her want to bury her nose in it. There was some danger in that building she couldn’t name. It felt precarious and precious, like a thing you were supposed to snap, but once you did you could never set it right again.

It wasn’t dark yet, just a feature of being tucked into a valley, and Revni’s eyes quickly adjusted. She could easily see how someone could settle here. Protected from intruders by the natural landscape, the flat bottom of the glen had just enough land for the few buildings and the rows of what had obviously been crops. From the dilapidated corral, they likely kept sheep. Sheep that still liked to wander home, she deduced, dodging a pebbled pile of poop. Her stomach rumbled, and she scowled in response. They wouldn’t have time to cook one if they found it anyway.

Revni went around the back, towards the ruined portion of the longhouse. There were no windows, but something scraped across the floor inside. She spotted the well as she cornered a collapsed wall, and gave an inadvertent yelp when Eavus’ face poked between the fallen beams with a grin.

“Hello, stranger.”

She bit back her laugh and frowned instead.

“Not very sound, is it?”

Eavus gestured to the pile of turf. “At least the roof fell in a convenient spot. If you’ve found water, I’ve found something you’re going to like.”

He disappeared inside. Curiosity tugged at her. One bucket still dangled in the well, while the other had a split that meant she could only half-fill it, but she attached them to the nearby yoke and made her way back, her shoulders aching under the weight. She kicked a knock at the door, and Eavus flung it open like a servant awaiting his master.

“You’re going to need more than that.”

His grin spread a warmth within her she didn’t know what to do with. His strong arms lifted the yoke off her shoulders with barely an effort, and she stepped over the threshold only to gasp.

“The princess wanted a proper bath.”

He’d found a trough, dragged it next to the spitting fire. He poured the first bucket into the kettle to heat before turning his smile back to her again. He looked boyish, despite his height, despite those whittled muscles dancing in the light, the rough stubble outlining his jaw. A sudden rock settled in her chest, like something was crushing her lungs.

“And look—” He pointed, and she tore her eyes to follow. “Can you believe it?” Thick wool covered the bed frame, the chewed and rotted ticking and hay gone. Revni gasped again, delighted, and rushed over. The herbs it had obviously been stored with hung in the air, and the scent of lavender puffed around her when she plopped to sit. “I found it in the chest.”

The mattress was layer upon layer of wool sewn into a low, rectangular box. It was a keepsake, something that must have taken months to make. “What did you do with the other?”

He pointed to the raging fire. Of course. That was why it blazed so hot. The one log he’d put on had barely started to burn. “A bath, a proper mattress, a roof over our heads.” Eavus looked around, pleased. “If Maetis brings back meat, it’ll be like we’re the emperor himself.”

That constriction in her lungs traveled to her throat. Heat exploded over her cheeks. They’d been sharing a bed for weeks. Why was this any different?

Revni leaped to her feet and went for one of the iron cookpots on the shelf across the room. “He might not come back. We should eat the rest of the grain while we have a means to cook it.” The pot clattered out of her hands. It was heavier than she had thought. She bent to pick it up.

“I wouldn’t mind eating twice. I’ll get more water.” Eavus left with the buckets and yoke.

They hadn’t shared a bed for one, it had been piles of leaves, a space in the dirt. Though they had shared the cot, back at his camp in Lordinius. Her cheeks flushed even worse at the memory, the gravity of his body. There had been people there, then. Not just the two of them. This room was practically spacious, the wind cutting through that ruined wall making it feel like they were still half-open to the outside. So why did it feel so tight? Like the space between them was miles away and nothing at the same time. She felt unprotected, that was the problem. She ached for an ax, for a sword, something to hold against whatever creature was flapping in her belly and beating against her chest.

Eavus had deposited his supply belt on a hook on the wall, its many loops dangling with the small sack of meal, his firekit, his empty coin purse, the knife he’d taken from the Sculpae woman. Several hung empty, intended for other things. It smelled of new leather, but was already turning supple from constant wear. She fingered the straps that held the hard cylinder message sealed with wax, distracted. The belt was similar to the one he’d worn before, but had more attachments. He must have gotten it in Lordinius.

This was the end, wasn’t it? He’d rejoin a regiment—she knew that Aleterian word well by now—and she’d find a clan to take her in. Norbucum or North…Either way, Eavus would likely go south, back to the Aleterian strongholds. Maybe farther south still, all the way to Aleteria itself. They’d likely never see each other again.

Eavus returned, and Revni tried to shake off her thoughts. She added water to the ground meal and stirred it over the fire until it thickened. He tilted the heated kettle into the trough, then the fresh water into the kettle, returning to the well several times until the bath was full with steaming heat. Whatever glee they’d both felt at the beginning had turned into a drawn silence. They ate, the tasteless porridge only filling her stomach.

“Tell me about this uprising,” she finally ventured.

“From what Maetis says, it’s unrest more than anything. But leaders from tribes are all gathering to talk things over. They’re using the monastery as a neutral spot.”

“Why is it because of you?”

The heat of the fire made it hard to tell, but she thought she saw him blush. “Back in Lordinius,” he explained, “I told the prefect about the Dinaeii wanting a treaty, but I didn’t have all the details.” Sudden guilt flared through her. She’d never told him. “And then in Triconum, I hinted at it again, and this time, I told the commander in charge that the Dinaeii and Oditi were enemies, and suggested there were…problems.”

“Why?”

“I was scrambling! I was pulling any names I could think of out of my ass trying to get them to have enough doubt and questions that they’d intervene with a prison wagon.”

Revni felt her own cheeks heat. For her. He’d been trying to rescue her.