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But Bach wasn't ready to listen to reason. He was still too busy being pissed off. "Oh, yes. I know," he sneered. "You wouldn't want to disappoint the queen or rob her of her petty games. Clearly, the game and the royal family's favor were more important to you than anyone else's feelings. More important than the fact that you were playing with people's lives."
I opened my mouth to tell him my actual reasons. To let the pompous jackass know about the queen's secrecy spell. But he didn't give me a chance. Kicking his mount forward, he went to speak to Currant. A moment later, he took to the sky with the excuse of letting his griffin stretch his wings while they surveyed the road ahead.
I ground my teeth together. I had been trying my best to see Raven team's side of things these past few days. To understand that they had a right to feel hurt and defensive. That they might not easily see or believe that I truly did care for them and never meant to cause them distress, that I never wanted to deceive them. They needed time to cool off, I told myself. It would all work out, eventually. They would see reason soon, and we'd all learn to work together as stewards in a professional capacity for the good of Larkwood. That was the whole purpose of the tournament after all.
But I was rapidly losing my faith and my patience.
By the time darkness fell and we stopped at an inn for the night, I was ready to draw blood from anyone who spoke to me. I knew I was being unfair to the guards and their commander. They had been nothing but polite and professional toward me. Jasper might have cheered me up with enthusiastic and dramatic stories about his training, but he was keeping his distance now too, probably afraid his boss would bite his head off if he made friends with the enemy.
It was only day one, and I was already sick of being around other people. Yet, at the same time, I really didn't want to go up to my rented room and stew by myself. Which was how I found myself in a corner of the inn's common room sipping a cup of boozy spiced cider while I watched everyone else in the world sit together in small clusters eating, drinking, and laughing.
Ah well, I was used to being alone, for the most part. Back in Larkwood, I had a few trusted staff and old friends who were like family, and I was friendly with the locals. But I performed my duties independently, and I spent most of my private time alone at home. This was hardly new.
If a small part of me had thought maybe that would change after the tournament, well, clearly, that was nothing but wishful thinking.
I was on my third cup of cider. The common room had mostly emptied out, except for the guards who weren't on duty at the moment. And, of course, my sullen mates.
I watched as the men of Raven team finished their last round and got up from their table, all chummy as usual. They headed for the stairs, chatting and chuckling over some shared joke. Bach threw his arm around Fife's shoulders and mimed choking the smaller guy, while Adder ruffled his hair.
They were like a bunch of kids goofing around. And I hated how much I wished I could be a part of their group. Not even as a mate. I'd settle for being punched in the arm like Adder right now, or being on the receiving end of what was probably a biting reply from Fife in response to all the teasing.
Maybe I should stop drinking. I was getting maudlin.
I watched my new mates make their way to the stairs and head up to their beds. But Mirri fell behind. He turned and looked over his shoulder at me. His warm gold eyes met mine, and I looked away, embarrassed that I'd been caught watching them. As if I was pining over a bunch of males who hated me.
That would be ridiculous.
I glanced over at them again, to find Mirri paused with one hand on the banister. He called something up to the others. Then the kindest member of Raven team turned around and headed toward my table.
That soft look on his face was probably pity for the poor, pathetic mixed-blood who was hated by her mates. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked down into my nearly empty cup, my fingers curling around the smooth metal as if it might give me courage. I didn't want to be pitied. But I did want to fix this.
"Hi," Mirri said, his voice low and hesitant.
I forced myself to look up, to meet the judgement in those pretty gold eyes. But what I found there was only sadness. Pity, maybe, but no anger. I blinked rapidly to keep my eyes from tearing up as a mixture of relief and embarrassment flowed through me. "Hello."
He gestured to the chair across from me and tilted his head, causing a wayward wave of auburn hair to fall forward over his short antler on that side. "Do you mind if I sit?" His wings were covered by his coat, as usual, and I silently wished they were uncovered. Not just because they were beautiful, but because it would give me a bit more insight into what he was thinking and feeling. But there were no flicks or flutters to give away his current emotions.
I shrugged. "Do what you like. I don't own you." The words carried more bitterness than I intended. But that was what they all seemed to think—that I had entered the tournament simply to get myself a group of males to treat as servants or slaves. And that was exactly the sort of bonding that Mirri had entered the tournament to avoid.
Mirri sighed. "Of course you don't own me," he said, pulling out the chair and sinking into it with an exhausted sight. "You've never given us any reason to think that was your aim."
I scoffed into my cup before taking a drink. "Maybe you should tell Bach that," I muttered.
Mirri put his elbows on the table and rested his lips against his folded hands, regarding me with those liquid gold eyes. I was surprised at the understanding I saw there. "He's angry," he finally said, giving me a shrug. "But he'll eventually realize that it's not you he's angry with."
I set my cup down and arched a brow at him. "Oh? Then who is he so furious with?"
Mirri dropped his hands to the table and smiled faintly. "Himself."
I shook my head, but he held up a hand to stop my protest. "No, I mean it. Bach has this…complex, I suppose. Ever since we were all kids, he's acted like it's his job to protect us all. He was…the chief of our wild little tribe. Not necessarily in a bad way—for the most part he isn't bossy or domineering. But…." He sighed and gave me a wry look. "He thinks he's responsible for everyone. Especially our little group. And he takes that far too seriously. Sometimes he gets his mind set on his goals, or his duty, or his need to protect the people he loves…and it's like nothing else gets through to him."
I pondered that for a moment, pressing my lips together as I watched Mirri watch me. "I see. But what does that have to do with our current situation?"
Mirri sighed. "Isn't it obvious? He thinks he should have known who you were. He thinks he should have figured out everything that was going on with the tournament so he could protect us from…whatever it is he thinks he failed to protect us from. I don't know. From being deceived? From looking like fools? From getting our feelings hurt? From the fact that he tried to withdraw us from the tournament and disregard our original goal to get free of my family's reach? It’s hard to say with him. The point is, he's mad at himself more than you. He just needs some time."
I nodded slowly. That did fit rather well with what I knew of the infuriating leader of Raven team. "Why are you here telling me this? Aren't you and the others mad at me too, regardless of what Bach has to say on the matter?" I wasn't stupid enough to think that the other men weren't capable of independent thought outside Bach's leadership.
"Hurt," Mirri said, his soft gold eyes meeting mine and his expression sad. "Not mad, Rina—sorry, Katrina. We're hurt." He smiled that faint ghost of a smile again. "Though I'm sure Adder and Fife haven't realized the difference yet."
