And this… whatever this was that lay between us now was definitely not hatred. It was not comfortable, nor was it easy.
The events of earlier today had taken that old tunic of hatred and ripped it into shreds, presenting me with something else. Something I didn’t want but was forced to wear. Something new and entirely unexpected.
It was as though the entire plane our relationship had rested on had shifted, leaving me standing uneasily on a rocky mountain. I couldn’t see what was coming, and that scared me more than anything else.
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. “I’m not okay. I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again.”
Xander rubbed his hand down my arm. “I won’t let you go,” he murmured. “You’re safe with me.”
I wanted to believe that. I did. And yet questions still plagued my mind. How could he keep me safe against the most powerful Death Elves in all of Ithenmyr?
Why did he want to?
The weight of these questions pressed down on me, and soon, every single part of my body felt heavier than before. I yawned, shoving all thoughts of non-hatred away. Those pesky feelings would be tomorrow’s problems.
“Sleep, Sunshine,” Xander said softly, lifting a hand off the reins to wrap around my middle. His arm was warm and comforting as he whispered, “I’ve got you.”
I was too tired to protest, and so I slipped off into the welcoming embrace of sleep.
That night, lulled into a deep sleep by the rocking motion of the horse and the warmth at my back, I dreamed of the earth.
A Long Journey
It turned out that if you had never ridden a horse before, traveling for days on end was not an easy task. Especially when the aforementioned travel included going through forests that spanned entire mountains.
Who knew?
Not me.
With every passing day, I was becoming painfully aware of the extent to which I had been sheltered. I had known my education had been limited, but the reality of it shocked me. I knew so little about the world in which I lived.
The king had ensured I knew how to read and write, but what good was a formal education when I didn’t have basic skills like riding horses? I knew Ithenmyr boasted of endless mountains and forests, while the Western Kingdom of Ipotha was as flat as the eye could see.
I knew how to properly pour a cup of tea to please my husband, but I did not know how to swim. What good was the fact that I had committed the entireBallad of Light Elvesto memory when I couldn’t tell which plants were safe to eat?
When we stopped to make camp the first night, I quickly extended my list of things I didn’t know how to do. Building a fire and making camp were both foreign concepts to me. At that rate, it would probably have been easier to make a list of things I knew how to do.
I learned early on that “making camp” was a loose term. Because of the constant threat of our pursuers, we didn’t dare risk a fire. We slept in shifts underneath whatever greenery we could find, remaining in one place just long enough to get enough sleep to keep going.
Waking up after the first night we made camp was not a pleasant experience. Every single muscle in my body hurt, including ones that, until this point in my life, had remained hidden and unused. Riding horses, I was learning, was not easy on the body.
Or at least on my body.
Both Xander and Daegal seemed unfazed by the entire situation. They moved with ease, not uttering a singular complaint about sore muscles or painful movements.
That was irritating, to say the least.
By noon on the second day, I learned males were terrible travel companions. They didn’t understand the need to stop and stretch my legs. Not only did they seem to consider my need to relieve myself every few hours a nuisance of epic proportions, but they thought the way the black flies and other insects swarmed me was amusing.
When I dared to mention my hunger, Xander thrust stale bread and cheese at me out of a pack.
Daegal seemed distracted, but Xander…
Whatever had shifted between us seemed to have been thrown to the wayside, because he seemed to be as angry with me as ever. If anything, his temper was shorter than before.
Despite my many attempts to engage the males in conversation, the only responses I ever got were grunts and monosyllabic answers.
“How did you accidentally burn down a cottage?” I asked Xander after we’d stopped so I could relieve myself for the third time since lunch.