Today, I would sleep—or at least feign sleep.I didn’t have it in me to spend another day dodging the wasp’s barbs. I’d lie down, close my eyes, waste a few hours in the box, then return to Tearmann.
I rounded the corner to find Keelynn and her coachman Padraig sitting in front of a bunch of yellow flowers outside the inn, playing cards.
I waved at the only bearable one, Padraig. “Good morning.”
Keelynn fixed me with a hateful stare. “It’snotmorning.”
“It is for me.” I’d rolled out of bed an hour ago, dressed in the first clothes I’d found, then stuffed myself with Eava’s crepes.Eava. Bless that old witch. She’d have me fat as a fool.
Before the wasp could say anything else rude, I smiled at the white-haired coachman. He seemed a decent enough fellow. In truth, I felt sorry for him, since he had such a miserable mistress. “We need to go to Niloc.” We could hit Lill tomorrow and still be on schedule.
“It’s not up to me,” Padraig said in his raspy voice, straightening the deck of cards and stuffing them into his breast pocket.
“You wasted enough of my time yesterday,” Keelynn insisted, standing and stomping her foot like it would make her seem more . . . I don’t know. Imposing?
It didn’t.
All it did was make me wince when the heel of her boot collided with the cobblestones.
Five more days. Not so bad. I’d been tortured for longer.
Only five more days.
“We cannot continue traveling southwest,” she went on, “when we need to gonorthwest to the castle.”
I massaged my aching temples. Why had I let my brother talk me into opening that second bottle? “What do you say we compromise? I’ll go to Niloc, and you go wherever the hell you want.”
“How is that a compromise?”
Instead of answering, I started back the way I’d come, calling her bluff. Keelynn groaned and told Padraig to head southwest.
Once we were settled in the feckin’ box, I found my flask and took a drink of ice cold water, keeping my eyes trained on the landscape speeding past.
Across from me, Keelynn shifted. I hadn’t planned on glancing at her, but when I did, I found it hard to look away.
There was no denying that she was attractive, with thick, dark lashes framing those large, steely eyes. Straight nose with a slightly upturned tip. Dark hair pulled into a severe knot at the back of her head, held in place with pins. High black collar cutting off the smooth white column of her throat.
It looked dreadfully tight.
Anything around my neck reminded me of being hanged. The unrelenting pressure of a coarse rope biting into your throat. The slow agony of suffocation when the drop didn’t snap your neck.
Chop off my head, impale me on a feckin’ pike. Just don’t send me to the gallows.
Keelynn bit her bottom lip with her perfect teeth as she stared down at the book in her lap. I had the overwhelming urge to run my tongue over the marks.
Not that I could.
If I went anywhere near her black mouth with mine, she’d keel over. Then I’d have two dead women in my castle, and my ring would return to Fiadh.
Wicked witch. Over two centuries had passed since she’d cursed me. She’d made a home on the east coast of Airren, as far from Tearmann as one could get without leaving the island. After all these years, I’d assumed she’d forgotten about me.
Apparently not.
Niloc was only a few hours south, but sitting on the damned trunk pretending to be passed out made it seem like an eternity. Especially with Keelynn smelling like lavender soap.
Soap used in the bath.
When she was naked.