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“It’smy lifewe’re talking about.”
“I understand you. Trust me, I do.” Caenan surprises me by sitting at the foot of my bed. “When I was seven, my father told me that I was to be sent away. He’d waged war to expand his borders, and lost. I was the price the victor demanded.”
All my righteous anger melts. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He shrugs. “Not your doing. In truth, it worked out for the best. I was the ninth son, unwanted, uncared for, all but left to run amok. And they sent me to Ryther. He made me the man I am today, taking me under his wing. The point, though, is that it could have ended up very differently. I could have been sent to be skinned and roasted over a fire. But you know what I did when I was told my fate?”
I can’t begin to guess, picturing the poor little boy with all that fear.
“I packed my bag. I didn’t have much, only whatever belongings I’d stolen from my brothers. And I did what I was told, because it was my duty.”
My jaw tightens. So now, I seem less reasonable than a seven-year-old because I want a say in my actual life?
“That’s not right.”
“It’s our reality. Your only choice is to face it head-on, or let it drag you by the hair. Either way, the lords will have their say, and you cannot fight them all.”
The worst thing is, he doesn’t sound unkind. Just the opposite, really.
I can’t accept that. Irefuseto. But saying so will likely not get me anywhere with my new friend slash guard, or babysitter.
I swing my legs out of the bed, and move to stand. “Take me to the meeting, please. I don’t intend to make a fuss.” And that’s true.
So long as there’s nothing to make a fuss about.
“I have instructions to protect you until Ryther’s return,” the man states.
“You can take me, or I can find it myself,” I retort primly, with a lot more confidence than is warranted.
I’m guessing if Caenan wanted to keep me locked in this room, he could. Hell, even a normal human man of his stature likely could overpower me; given what he is, I don’t have much of a chance if it comes to physical strength.
“Darina, you cannot roam the camp.” His lips are tight. “You don’t even know where the lords are gathering.”
“Good thing you do, then.”
Caenan grunts something I don’t understand low in his chest. “It’s aterribleidea.”
“You can show me, or I canroamuntil I find them. Maybe ask random people I see on the way.”
I have too many pressing questions he has no answer to. Besides, I can’t very well let a bunch of people decidemyfate in my absence.It’s not me. I’m not a seven-year-old, or a child, no matter their thoughts of the age of majority.
“Youtrulyare a brat, aren’t you?” Caenan notes in a low grumble.
From his tone, I gather Ryther told him I was, which only serves to cement my resolve.
Caenan hesitates, before slowly inclining his head. “Fine. But we stay at the back. Don’t bring attention to yourself. We’re only there to listen.”
I flash him a grin. “I knew I liked you.”
I have the pleasure of seeing the huge, handsome knightblushunder his tan.
I am starting to understand that they aren’t particularly prudish, but I don’t want to remove the chemise in front of him anyway, so I pull the trousers up my legs, and stuff the oversized shirt at my waist, top it with a soft long-sleeve, gray sweater, and putting on the vest over the lot.
As I dress, I note that my hair’s strawberry blonde again. Something tells me looking like this will do me a disservice here.
“How do I change back to…” I wince. “My true form.”
That expression still feels wrong.
