Something small and rectangular landed in my outstretched hand, a strong floral scent filling my nose.
Soap. It was soap. My stomach plummeted as disappointment bloomed within me.
That wasnotwhat I’d been expecting.
Blowing out a long breath, I tightened my fingers around the scented bar. “Thank you,” I whispered, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
A moment passed, then two, before Xander coughed. “I’ll give you some privacy. Don’t take too long.”
“So bossy,” I replied, but there was no bite in my words.
Not anymore.
* * *
The next few days went by in much of the same way. We rose with the sun, rode all day with minimal breaks, and rested at night.
The only difference was that something had thawed between Xander and me at the hot springs. Ever since that night, we seemed to have reached a truce of sorts.
It wasn’t that we were no longer at each other’s throats. If anything, we were bickering more than before.
But our words weren’t barbed any longer. Laughter filled the air as we rode, and both males took the time to talk with me. A sadness still permeated the air around them and it had Jo’s name on it.
I was no expert in grief, but I felt like it was probably normal.
A small part of me recognized it was special that there were people who mourned Jo’s passing.
Who would mourn me if I died?
I wasn’t sure that there was anyone at all.
* * *
By the afternoon on the third day after the hot springs, the path through the woods had become something that loosely resembled a road. It had widened enough for both horses to ride side-by-side, and the trees were thinning.
The mountains leveled into hills, and the trek became easier. The males grew more relaxed by the hour, and I knew our destination was near.
“Tell me how the two of you met,” I requested after we finished sharing yet another meal of hard bread and cheese. I’d decided that I would be thrilled if someone presented me with something other than bread and cheese to eat. At this point, I’d probably accept just about anything. “There must be a story behind it.”
Daegal chuckled, his voice in a loud whisper as he leaned in. “You might find this hard to believe, but your husband and I weren’t always friends.”
“No,” I gasped in mock shock, my hand flying to my heart as I gripped the saddle horn with one hand. I was getting better on the horses, and my legs were no longer burning at the end of the day. “Xander is the picture of serenity and kindness.”
I snorted, barely able to keep a straight face as Daegal broke into outright laughter.
Behind me, Xander shifted. His thighs tightened around me, pressing my body into the saddle, as his breath brushed the back of my neck. I stiffened instinctively as he growled, “Iamkind to those who deserve it.”
I chuckled, patting his thigh gently. He tensed beneath my touch but quickly softened as I said placatingly, “Of course, you are, Xander. The absolute image of kindness.”
“That’s right I am,” he said.
“Perhaps then you’d be sokindas to take over the storytelling and tell me how you and Daegal met?” I asked sweetly.
The Fortune Elf coughed. “You walked right into that one, Xan.”
Xander blew out a long breath, muttering something inaudible before he acquiesced. “Fine,” he huffed. “We met after an especially long winter in Breley some years ago.”
“Breley is the capital city in the province of Midena, correct?” I asked. I had never been there, of course.