Page 63
Eavus left and she let him. The sun was dipping already, and she wasn’t any closer to getting her ring. She could—burn him? Cut him? Wrestle him for it? She tried to imagine it for a moment—how she could set it up. A suggestion they grapple? Some sort of contest? Squaring off against one another, and she’d sweep a leg behind his knees, crash him to the floor. He’d try to throw her off, but she’d wrap her legs around his hips and pin him down. He’d give her that smirk, that little glint in his eye that she’d amused him, not expecting the way she’d twist to pin his arms with her knees, drive her forearm to his throat and press until his body released. Surrendered. Then she’d slide it off his finger while he lay panting and spent beneath her.
Ridiculous. How would he not be suspicious after that? How would he not pin her down in turn? His muscular arms holding her wrists, his weight pressing her into the dirt, her body gone limp from all the effort. He’d give her that long, slow grin, holding her gaze with those cornflower blue eyes while he drew the ring over her knuckle, only then, finally, lifting his body off of her so she could breathe.
Her whole body flushed just thinking about it.
“Take off your clothes.”
Revni jumped.
“What?”
She spun, but he didn’t look vicious. He held up a small ceramic jar with a scent so strong it bit into her nose.
“Take your bath. I’ll wash your clothes for you. You shouldn’t have to go around with your mother’s— I hadn’t realized.”
Revni’s cheeks heated. “It’s not only her—”
He waved her off. “I’m a soldier. You think I haven’t cleaned up blood before? You can wear the spare tunic for now.”
He was being kind. It made her feel even worse. Because the first thing she thought of was that maybe her plan could still work—the soap, the river. All these chances to steal back her ring and then run.
Better for him if I can, she reasoned, as he turned his back so she could slip the misshapen tunic over her head. It smelled like old bread. If one of these options didn’t work, finger chopping was next in line.
“I think this soldier was shaped like a tree stump.”
He let out a laugh when he turned back around, and she flushed again at what the sound did to her.
“I think it was mis-sewn. No one is that short and wide at the same time. Bring my armor, too. I’ll polish it.”
Revni collected items and followed him to a flat rock, keeping her eyes on the ring. It danced, as if a part of him, as if teasing her.
Eavus leaned forward and plunged the clothes up to his elbows.
“Ack.” He shuddered visibly as he pulled up the dripping mass.
“I thought you didn’t mind blood.”
“I hate blood actually. Always made me squeamish. But it’s not that, this water’s freezing. You might want to reconsider.”
Revni went upstream where she could walk in and toed at the water. He was right, it was, but she didn’t care about that. She was too busy trying to figure how to somehow make this work.
“What did you get for cleaning? From the women.”
They had moved to the banks. It looked like they were finishing up.
“Vinegar. They didn’t have any soap or ammonia, but you work with what you got. Injury is no excuse!” he added, with a high-pitched voice and a firm gesture, like he was making fun of someone specific. Revni smiled, and her heart sank further. He was funnier than she’d thought. She wouldn’t miss him, but after how they’d started, everything certainly could have gone much worse.
But no soap.
“What about sacrifices?” she asked absent-mindedly.
“What do you mean?”
Was that the wrong word? “If you don’t like blood. What do you do for your gods?” The rocks beneath her feet were smooth and slippery with growth. If she could get him in the water…
“I pray to the ancestors, of course, but I don’t know who my ancestors are. Not sure why Caea’s ancestors would be interested in my prayers.”
Revni wrinkled her forehead. “Don’t you have gods?”
