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A horse and rider raced into the campsite.
As the rider spotted us, she drew back on her reins, bringing her mount to a skidding halt.
“I've brought back your horse,” Lancelet said calmly, as she held out Haya's tether. She frowned as she saw my hand in Vesper’s. “Who the hell is that?”
CHAPTER 28
None of us got muchsleep that night.
My back was slashed to ribbons, but thankfully, the cuts were fairly shallow. For once I was grateful not to have access to a mirror.
Draven took charge of tending to my wounds. Sitting me down firmly on a nearby rock, he carefully lifted the back of my tunic, and cleaned out the cuts with a flask of vinegar and strips of clean linen. His touch was surprisingly gentle. Even so, I winced as the acidic liquid hit the exposed flesh, digging my fingers into my palms.
“Talk to me,” I said through gritted teeth, looking up at where Lancelet stood nearby watching, her arms folded over her chest. “Tell me how this is possible. How did you get here?”
She looked different from the last time I had seen her, that night in the Great Hall.
I couldn't help but notice how gaunt she appeared. Her short blonde hair was pulled back from her face with a leather strap, revealing the shadows beneath her eyes. Her normally tanned skin was pale. Despite the exhaustion that was etched into her features, her beautiful blue eyes still glimmered with their customary brightness.
“It’s not possible,” she replied bluntly. “And if I told you how I did it, you probably wouldn’t believe me.” She glanced across the campsite at where Vesper sat cleaning his knives. He glanced up as our eyes landed on him and smiled. I felt a familiar warmth pool in my stomach. “Who is that?”
“That’s Vesper. He’s a friend.” I struggled to keep my expression neutral, but Lancelet had known me too long. Her eyebrows went up. I glanced at Draven, who was still bandaging my back, hoping he wouldn’t say anything embarrassing.
“We picked him up a few days back,” Draven said shortly. “He helped us out of a tough situation. I’m not sure I’d call him a friend.” He paused. “Though he’s pulled his weight. So far.”
“I see.” Lancelet studied me hard. “You trust him then?”
“I do,” I said quickly.
Draven snorted. “She trusts too easily.”
“Says the mercenary killer,” I retorted. “And that’s not true. I still don’t trustyou.” That wasn’t fair. Also, my guilty heart told me it also wasn’t true.
Lancelet tilted her head, the hint of a smile on her lips. “Yet here he sits, tending to you like a nursemaid.”
“I believe he’s meant to keep me alive until we reach our destination,” I said frostily. “Don’t read too much into it.”
