Penn’s jaw tightens. “It’s fine.”
We lapse into terse silence, neither knowing how to proceed. I am rather ashamed of myself for resorting to verbal barbs. Why is it I have no problem passing easy hours with his men, joking and laughing, but the moment I get into his presence my tongue sharpens into a knifepoint?
In truth, I do not know enough about his relationship with the former wind weaver to rightly comment on it. Whether they were mere friends or something more…Penn has not told me and I have not yet summoned the courage to ask. Whatever theywere to each other, she had clearly mattered a great deal. She still does, if the echoes of heartbreak haunting his expression are any indication.
“You have no idea how to properly control your power,” he says finally, breaking through the heavy silence that presses in on us. “You could hurt someone.”
“Then train me.”
He jolts in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You say I’m a danger—to myself, to everyone around me. Then help me. Show me how to control it.”
He is quiet for a long time, staring at me. When he speaks, it is almost a whisper, though there is no one around to hear. “You would trust me with this? To teach you?”
“If there was someone else I could ask, I would. But we both know you are the only one I can turn to.” I swallow hard, trying to get my racing pulse under control. “If not to train me, why bring me here at all?”
“To keep you safe. To keep youalive. If you die, gods only know how long it will take to find another like you. I will not spend any more years in the Midlands hunting halflings. I do not have the stomach for it.”
“I am…” I search for the proper words. “Grateful…for your protection.”
His mouth twitches. “Right.”
“Gratitude aside,” I hurry on, “I meant what I said before. I cannot spend my life locked in a stone tower. I’m not built for it.”
“While you reside beneath my sister’s roof, I’m afraid you must maintain at least some presence at court.” He blows out a breath. “Do you think I would attend her bloody dinners if I had any other choice in the matter?”
“You are at least accustomed to this world. You grew up here. No one dares question your place.” My voice drops to a murmuras my eyes drop to my feet. “I do not belong here. I am not meant for fine society. I feel no desire to overindulge in piles of gourmet food; I care nothing for stilted conversation with jewel-draped courtiers. I…I grew up in a cottage. In the wild, in the woods. The closest I have ever come to royalty before now is the queen bee of the hive in our gardens. I do not embroider or paint watercolors or play pianoforte or…whatever else the accomplished ladies of the court do to occupy their time. And I have no wish to. Why waste a whole day locked indoors when I could better use it hunting or healing?”
“Can you not simply rest for a time? Until you’ve some meat on your bones and some color in your cheeks? Until that haunted look has faded from your eyes and you stop flinching at every sudden noise?” Penn sounds more exasperated than I have ever heard him. “Or have you spent so long running, you’ve forgotten how to stop?”
My eyes stay locked on my shoes. The tips of my boots shine with fresh polish in the midday sun. “Do not speak to me of rest.Youdo not rest. One day home, and you’re already at the sparring pits.”
He grunts, a sound of begrudging agreement. “Court chafes after so long away. It will pass. You will settle. Give it time.”
I shake my head. “I won’t—”
His hand latches on to my chin without warning, cutting off my words. He jerks my face up to his, so I can no longer escape his eyes. They smolder with a conviction that catches me off guard
“You say you have no place here? You do. Your place is with me. So long as I am here, no one will dare lift a hand nor utter a word against you. Do you hear me?”
“I…” I swallow hard; his eyes track the movement. “I hear you.”
“Good.”
“Still, you must at least give me the freedom to be outside during the day. To feel the wind and the sunlight and the grass beneath my feet. You must let me have a purpose here, beyond that of a rare butterfly pinned behind glass.”
He stares at me, still holding my chin. I can see the thoughts working in his eyes but I cannot decipher them. I sense nothing from the link that stretches between us, a band of tension from the exposed mark on his chest to the concealed one on mine; not the slightest hint at what he might be feeling. So I am utterly surprised by the words that come out of his mouth.
“You are nothing like her.”
I flinch, thinking it an insult.
Until he keeps talking. “Enid…She was many things. Gentle. Kind. Intelligent. But…not strong. Not fearless.”
My lips part. He watches my soft exhale of surprise slip out, his eyes lingering on my lips so heavily I dare not draw another breath. “I’m not fearless.”
He does not answer. But his hold on my chin changes, morphing from a restraining grip to almost a caress. My breath snags in my throat as the strong pads of his fingers slide along the sharp line of my jaw, then trace down the slope of my neck. I tremble as I feel the rough scrape of calluses from his sword.