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"No, no. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." He chuckled. "After all, you're always stumbling—over your feet, your words."
Kallie scoffed. “If I do it's only because of this damned rope around my wrist."
He stepped closer and placed his hands on Calamity’s back, locking Kallie in place without touching her as if to remind her of her position as their captive. "I recall you saying you preferred it that way."
Kallie's mouth fell open. She quickly snapped it shut as she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "I—I said no such thing."
He whispered. "See? There you go stumbling over your words again." He leaned in closer, the smell of cedar cocooning her. "Is it me, little mouse? Do I make you stumble?"
Kallie snarled in disgust. He had been trying to get a rise out of her this entire time, and it had worked. She was flustered, annoyed, and strangely intrigued even though she shouldn't be.
Kallie had always enjoyed playing with someone she couldn't have. And Graeson was the very definition of someone she should stay away from. Someone whom she would enjoy toying with for a time, but a danger once that time was up. His looks alone would have had Myra spinning, but Kallie was not going to be affected by him.
She would use him, manipulate him, then she would destroy him.
"Only because I am constantly shocked by your stupidity." Kallie grabbed the pommel and lifted herself off the horse. She felt his hand go to her back, steadying her as she searched for the footrest. "Perhaps, you could invest in some shorter stirrups," she mumbled, the frustration rising to the surface.
"Planning to stay for a while then, Princess?"
Kallie groaned and regretted saying anything at all.
Once her foot found the small pad of leather, she hopped off the horse, relieved to be on solid ground again.
Graeson placed his hand on her elbow. "And lose my entertainment? I don't think so."
“Are you that easy to entertain?” She jerked her arm away from him, shaking off his hand.
Graeson only shrugged in response.
Kallie cast a glance at the others gathered around the farmer. “Don't you think this farmer will be at all curious as to why you have a person with their wrists tied? Won't it raise suspicions?"
Graeson shrugged again. "Eh, Menz has seen worse."
Kallie opened her mouth, but her words were lost on her tongue. She snapped it shut as Graeson ushered her toward Fynn, Terin, and Dani. Even though the farmer, or Menz as Graeson referred to him, was not much shorter than the other men, there was a stark contrast between Menz and the twins. The men were all clearly strong, but where the twins were bulky, Menz was lanky.
The farmer threw his head back as laughter erupted from his mouth. The sound was vacant of disdain or annoyance and filled with unfiltered amusement, something she was not used to hearing.
"And what, pray tell, is so funny?" Graeson asked, stopping a few paces away from Fynn and the farmer.
Fynn shook his head as he regained his ability to speak. He glanced between Kallie and Graeson. "I'll tell you later, Gray."
"I cannot wait until your mother hears about this,” Menz said, still laughing. Then with a gesture to follow, the farmer headed up the path to the small farmhouse.
Menz opened the door and Kallie entered the house behind Fynn with Graeson on her heels. Upon entering, the smell of onions, garlic, and warm broth smacked her in the face. As they passed the quaint kitchen, her stomach grumbled at the sight of the steaming pot on the stove.
"I figured you all might be hungry, so I cooked up a stew for you," Menz said, glancing over his shoulder.
He led the group over to the dining area. The room was just large enough to fit a table for six. Fynn claimed the head of the table in the front of the room. Terin and Dani sat on the western side and Graeson directed Kallie to the chair across from Fynn. Kallie noted how the seat was pushed up against the wall and surrounded by her enemies on both sides, making it nearly impossible for her to try anything.
Sitting down, she took the room in. It was simple, void of decadence besides a few small paintings of the property on the walls. Her eyes lingered on the painting of the house. It was a near-perfect depiction. The colors were bright and lively. Even without people in the painting, the painter managed to convey more emotion within their strokes than any of the royal portraits covering the lavish walls of the palace in Ardentol.
"My late wife painted those,” Menz said from the entrance of the room after noticing where Kallie's gaze had gone.
"Lois was a very talented woman,” Fynn said.
"She sure was." A proud smile was plastered on Menz's face. Then sighing, he turned around and disappeared into the hallway.
A moment later, the smell of the stew grew stronger, and Menz strode back into the dining room carrying the large steel pot that Kallie had seen on the stove. He tilted his head toward the entry. "Fynn, do an old friend a favor and grab the bowls from the kitchen."
