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I gulped and veered a little, detouring around the spot and towards where I remembered seeing a pond the evening before.
The pond was larger than I’d remembered and the water was lovely and clear. When I returned to the campsite, my hair was damp and loose down my back and I was carrying my freshly washed clothes in a bundle. I felt better than I had in days.
Draven had hung the kettle over the fire and I could smell roseleaf tea boiling. A plate of toasted bread and cheese had been set out on a rock by my tent. My stomach rumbled as I looked at it.
Thank goodness Draven was a competent cook. I was suddenly reminded it was just the two of us now.
With a qualm of sadness, I wondered if he had noticed his stallion yet.
I glanced over to where Draven stood on the other side of the campsite, his back to me. He had not turned at the sound of my footsteps. He was very still.
“What is it?” I called softly. He raised a hand to hush me.
He stood motionless for another minute, then turned, shaking his head. “I thought I heard something. It was nothing.”
I settled down on a log by the fire with my plate of breakfast and a cup of steaming tea.
“So,” I said conversationally. “Just the two of us now.”
Draven sat down on a hollow stump across from me and poured himself some tea. “Cozy, isn’t it?”
“It’ll certainly be more peaceful.” I thought for a moment then cleared my throat. “After some careful consideration, I believe I will no longer be taking my medicine. At least, not for a while. Not until I’ve fully recovered.”
Draven raised a dark brow. “You’ve come to that decision, have you? Near death brought on a change of heart? Glad to see you’re not completely incorrigibly stubborn.”
I glared at him. “It was not near death. That’s a gross exaggeration.”
Draven shrugged. “Whatever you want to tell yourself. But I think you’re making the right choice.”
“Strange how that doesn’t in fact make me feel as if I am,” I said coldly.
He smirked.
Without pausing to think it through and change my mind, I decided it was time to clear the air.
“I know who you are, you know,” I said flatly.
“Oh?” He didn’t sound particularly concerned. “Didn’t you before?”
“I mean, not simply your name. Not just that you are Kairos Draven. Not just that you are the captain of the Royal Guard, I mean,” I said with impatience.
“How wonderful for you,” Draven murmured, stooping to refill his mug. “We slept half the morning away. We should leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“Your horse is dead, you know,” I snapped.
Draven took a sip of his tea. “I’ll get a new one in the next town we pass. Ride the piebald for now.”
“Because those are so common,” I muttered. “Towns, I mean.” Louder, I added, “You’re anassassin. With a ridiculously pretentious name. Who calls themselves the Void’s Edge, anyhow?”
There was silence.
“No one.” He took another sip from his mug. “No one calls themselves that. It would defeat the point of having an ominous title altogether.”
“You mean to say that your terrified victims cursed you with the title as they drew their last breaths, I suppose.” I began to braid my damp hair, trying to act as untroubled as possible.
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“The women and children you mercilessly slaughtered,” I snapped.
