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“I thought non-magic-wielders couldn’t cross either. Shows how little I know about true wealth.”
The scriptures didn’t go into too much detail about the gods and the strange phenomenon that were portals. But everyone who survived seeing the Shadow God knew that Dargan always collected a prize from those who crossed through his in-between worlds. He was known as “The Collector” for a reason.
Gavin chuckled, and a pleasant smile with dimples remained on his face. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it. “Whatever you think my family’s wealth is, cut it in half.”
“I doubt most of us common folk get to meet the King in person.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Was Gavin’s sister anything like Violet’s had been when they were young? Thalea was a woman now, and probably nothing like she remembered. Regardless, Violet had always liked children. They were bright and innocent and all that was good in the world. They needed to be protected.
If she survived, she vowed to try and help those innocents that got dragged from their homes before they even made it into their adolescence. Like she had been.
“I would have wanted to meet your sister, even at that moment.” She recalled the state she’d been in, her wild eyes and the blood that stained her white dress. “Actually, I take that back. She wouldn’t have liked me. No one does.”
“Elina adores you.”
Violet stilled, his words knocking the wind out of her. “She knows me?”
His cheeks bloomed red, and the spoon he held clattered to the dish below. “They all know about you.”
Oh.
Of course. What was she thinking? They had been engaged for a week, that was enough for his parents to learn of their son’s match, although correspondence in the kingdom seldom traveled that fast. She evidently didn’t have a clue of how much his wealth could buy.
Gavin continued tinkering with his salves, while Violet busied herself with the only book the innkeeper kept in this place, a fantastical story about other worlds. A very light read for her, but the only way she could occupy her mind while she was stuck here.
Violet was bursting with pent up energy. She closed the book, and dust plumed out of its brown pages. “We shouldn’t just sit around like this for days while we are being hunted down,” she said, though the Society of Crows wasn’t pursuing him yet. “Let’s train. Whoever scores first wins, and the loser buys our next meal.”
That caught his attention. He put his ingredients down and turned towards her. “Now? In this small place, while you’re injured?”
She shrugged one shoulder and stood up slowly. “We need to work out our energy and keep our skills in place. I shouldn’t need to remind you of that.”
He cocked his head to one side and lifted one brow. “And I shouldn’t have to remind you that you almost died a few days ago.”
“I’m fine to train,” she said, and walked towards the living area while rolling her shoulders. “We can spar lightly. No kicking and no magic—that is, if you aren’t afraid of me.”
Gavin stood in one fluid motion, strutting forward in a wide stance. “I’m most definitely afraid, wife.”
“I don’t like it when you call me that.” The living room was too small for this, but she was too stubborn to back out now.
“But you’re my wife.”
His words sent a rush of adrenaline that burned through her, and she attacked without waiting for him to go back to his potion brewing. Gavin was a trained soldier like herself, and a very capable one at that. He got out of the way easily.
She attacked and he ducked from her fist, again and again, leaving her craving for the normalcy of her speed. Her stiff leg slowed her down, but she refused to let that stop her.
“Are you going to hit me back or are you going to continue on with this dance?” She forced out in between gritted teeth before leaping, and barely held a hiss of pain behind her lips as her wound flared to life.
Gavin blocked her, but this time didn’t move fast enough and she collided against his body with all her strength. They stumbled back a few feet, her legs tangled with his. Her sutures pulled and pain blazed with such intensity she lost her balance.
They fell too fast into a tangle of limbs and hard planes. She shouldn’t enjoy his nearness, and the way his hands settled around her waist.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” She scrambled away from him and immediately missed the delicious warmth of his body. “You were taking it easy on me. If you do that, how am I going to be ready to fight someone like the Crows?”
“You’re injured and I’m your healer. It’s not the right time to train.”
