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I emerge from the shadows of the giant spruce tree, and Einar curses under his breath.
“What are you doing here?” His eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and panic.
I pull my hood back and walk closer. “Why are you cutting down trees?” I ask a question of my own instead of responding to his.
Einar sighs, bringing the back of his arm up to wipe the sweat from his brow. I can see that it was good that I waited to follow him, since I’m not the only one who has managed to calm down in the interim.
“I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever get a straight answer out of you again,” he says, resting the axe handle over his shoulder.
“Did you ever?” I ask in return.
This actually makes him respond with a breathy laugh, and I almost smile.
He studies me for a moment, long enough for me to suspect he sees the turmoil churning in my eyes. Though he can’t possibly understand where it’s coming from, perhaps he recognizes how badly I needed to get out of those walls.
It strikes me that he is a contradiction of a man, the way he can so expertly avoid the things he doesn’t wish to see but manages to miss nothing when he bothers to look.
He gestures to the log he had been ready to split in two.
“Do you want a turn?”
I hesitate.Is this a test?
“The axe isn’t my weapon,” I find myself saying, studying the way he holds it and trying to determine its weight.
“I’m well aware of the underhanded attacks you favor. The throwing stars incident isn’t something I’m likely to forget any time soon.”
I try not to take offense. He’s right. I have been taught to be more careful than that. I was trained to be deceptive and cunning. If I kill a man, it will be without the rest of the world knowing.
If only he knew how much I wish I had the luxury of a straightforward fight.
Then I read another meaning into his words and have to suppress the flush rising in my cheeks.The incident with the throwing stars.When I hit my target? Or after that, when I demanded a kiss from him in front of a crowd of people?
His eyes burn with intrigue at whatever he reads in my expression, and he holds out the handle of the axe.
“Here. I’ll show you.”
My hand stretches out of its own accord. Maybe it is a test, but I can’t resist the urge to find out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Einar
Ishould be throwing her over my shoulder and carting her back inside right now, but even if that wouldn't cause a scene, even if I was completely certain she would let me, I can’t seem to make myself tell her to go.
She managed to sneak up on me with nearly silent footfalls in an unfamiliar forest. She pilfered one of my cloaks and hid her features. I don’t honestly think she was seen. Even those, though, are not the real reasons I can’t make her leave.
There is more life on her face now than there has been since she awoke chained to my bed.
And I can’t take that from her, even as I tell myself I shouldn’t care how she feels about anything. Even when I know she didn’t extend that courtesy to me, back when she was pretending to care about me for whatever complicated scheme I still can’t quite work out.
Even when I know it makes me every bit the fool she’s played me for.
Not that she seems to be planning to escape any time soon. She furiously attacks the logs with the axe. Her form is good, though she claims to have never used one before, and her slim arms are deceptively strong.
A sheen of sweat breaks out on her forehead, and I realize it’s the only time I’ve ever seen it there. She’s usually too cold to sweat. I realize, too, that this exertion is nothing new for her. That it probably took more effort for her to be idle for so long than it does to wield the hefty axe made for a person twice her size.
When the last piece of wood splinters, she turns to me, the axe dangling from her hand.
