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The answer didn’t satisfy me. Just like the meal he offered didn’t sit well. I threw up, expelling the chunks of meat and gravy in a spray that left me holding my stomach.
Silas scowled. “You wasted it.”
“I’m sorry.” I wiped my mouth.
“Don’t cry later if you’re hungry. That’s it unless we find something tomorrow.”
The next day, I had no better luck keeping food in my belly, which, for some reason, led to Silas having a sly expression on his face.
“I have to go. Stay here. Brunna will watch over you.” Brunna was a large woman with a cudgel who sat in front of the tent where I huddled, miserable. I was hungry, but nauseated, my stomach roiling and eyes pricking.
I wished I’d never been marked. Never known pleasure.
Never fallen in love.
