Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Hours later, I finally force myself up from the bed.
The fire has burned down to embers, and while I’m not bothered by the cold, I need the light.
I manage to coax it back to life, thank the Makers, and get the two lanterns burning as well, filling my tent with a nice warm glow.
I peek outside, expecting to find armed guards at my door—er, flap?
—but find nothing. I’m not na?ve enough to believe that I’m not being watched, even if I can’t see them, and know that a camp this size would have patrols roaming at all hours just to be safe, especially if word has spread that this particular group of Hunters has the Flame of Lyanna.
So, no, escape is out of the question, at least for tonight.
I glance towards Blackheart’s tent and see that his lanterns are still burning bright.
The rest of the camp is mostly dark, though the fires still burn along the paths.
I have no idea what time it might be, but it must be late, most everyone asleep in preparation for our dawn departure.
I sigh and retreat back inside. I pull off the ruined dress and do my best to wash the grime and blood away in the basin.
I wince when I wash the scrape on my temple and bite my lip as I peel the bandage away from my arm, the dried blood making the process far from pleasant.
The cut beneath isn’t too bad, but it’s sore and tender.
I’ll have to find another bandage, but first I unplait what’s left of the braids atop my crown, wincing when I encounter tangle after tangle.
Ennis had managed to yank most of it down already, but a few stubborn strands had found themselves into more of a knot than a braid at this point.
Finally, I work them all out and let the tresses hang loose down my back, rubbing my sore scalp as I rummage through the trunk.
“Fucking hells, Tesni,” I whisper. Not a pair of trousers in sight, just more heavy, flowing dresses, thick fur coats, and hats that I would rather die than be seen wearing by a soul on this earth.
I slap the edge of the trunk in frustration and squeeze my eyes shut, taking deep, deliberate breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth.
I find a soft handkerchief, her name stitched in gold thread along the edge—Tesni de Moreau—and tie it around my arm as a makeshift bandage, getting the tiniest bit of satisfaction knowing that she’d be pissed to see my blood ruining her fine accessories.
I pull on a thin shift for now and climb beneath the furs. I wouldn’t have thought sleep would find me in this place, but it embraces me like an old friend and pulls me beneath the waves of darkness the moment my head hits the pillow.
“—up!”
I bolt upright, gasping. I’d been dreaming of fire, great serpents made of flames chasing me through a black forest, gnarled trees reaching out their wickedly sharp branches to slash deep gouges into my skin.
I’d run and run and run, but Tesni’s laughter had never faded, seeming to hover above me as her beasts pursued.
I wipe sweat-soaked hair from my brow and blink into the dim light.
It takes a heartbeat for me to realize where I am, to remember everything that had happened yesterday.
“Get up,” Odessa snaps, apparently not for the first time.
“He wasn’t joking, you know. He will drag you out of here in your shift and not give two shits if you freeze your ass off or chafe the skin right off your thighs as we ride.
So, unless you want that, I suggest you get up and get dressed now. You have five minutes.”
I blink to try to clear the sleep from my eyes and nod.
She strides out of the tent, letting the flap close behind her.
I untangle myself from the blankets and stagger to the basin.
I splash the cool water over my face and neck, and run my fingers through my hair, quickly plaiting it in one long braid over my right shoulder.
I choose the least offensive dresses I can find, something I believe Tesni would deign was indeed for riding, though her idea of riding through pristine gardens will be vastly different from what I’m going to be doing today I imagine.
It’s a deep midnight with gold stitching, and thankfully allows for a bit more movement than the monstrosity I was in yesterday, with slits in the sides to allow one to mount a horse easily.
I pull on the heinous boots and exit the tent to find Odessa waiting.
“One minute to spare. I’m impressed.”
She tenses, snapping to her full height at some unseen signal or threat. I furrow my brow but turn to find Blackheart emerging from his tent. He’s back in the Hunter uniform again—black leathers, black coat, sword at his hip—and he strides forward with an easy grace.
“And I was so hoping I’d get to drag you out,” he says, smiling coldly.
He keeps walking, not seeming to care about my response, and Odessa falls into step behind him, making it clear I’m to do the same.
I don’t bother asking about the trunk—someone put it there before.
If they want me to continue having it, they’ll move it again—and hold the hem of my dress up from the muddy path as we walk.
I jut my chin up, pressing my shoulders back as we walk past the rows of tents, most in the process of being taken down and packed away, and ignore the comments and stares.
The sun is just coming up over the mountains in the distance and bathing the camp in beautiful, soft golden light.
We walk back to where the horses are kept and I see the same horse I rode yesterday waiting, the young boy putting his saddle on him.
The horse has a white spot on his neck in the shape of a star, and I secretly name him Zaro after the Maker of the sky.
Blackheart walks off to talk to a group of men and women, all in the same black clothing, while Odessa stands beside me.
“Are you to be my keeper, then?” I ask, making sure to put that annoyingly haughty tone into my voice.
“If that’s what he wishes, then yes,” she says tersely, but then adds with a cold smile, “no matter how demeaning and beneath me such a task may be.”
I press my lips into a hard line and she smirks before a young girl with dark brown hair and light green eyes approaches cautiously.
She must only be nine or ten, far too young to be a Hunter, certainly?
Odessa softens and smiles warmly at the girl, nodding encouragingly at her.
The girl ducks her head, but takes the last few steps so that she’s standing closer to us.
Is she afraid of me? My chest twists at that.
People shouldn’t cower before a Gifted. We’re supposed to use our Gifts to help people, at least that’s what I’ve always believed.
We’re no better than anyone else, we were just given the opportunity to be vessels for blessings from the Makers, to help where others cannot.
The fact that Tesni has allowed her Gift to be turned into something so dark and twisted, something that strikes fear into the hearts of people, something to be bought and paid for, makes me sick.
“Finally awake, are we Mia?”
The girl looks up at that and rolls her eyes.
“I was only a few minutes late, Dessa. Anyway, I brought breakfast for you and…” She peeks at me from beneath her lashes and I see the smattering of light freckles across her nose.
She’s adorable now, but will be stunning one day.
I want so badly to smile, to tell her that Mia is a beautiful name, ask her what she’s doing here.
But of course, I can do none of those things.
“And for her,” she finishes, pulling her gaze away quickly.
She holds out a hand towards each of us, and I take the offered piece of bread with some kind of cheese baked on top. It smells delicious.
“Thanks, Mia. Tell Cookie it smells delicious, yeah?” Mia nods and someone calls Odessa’s name.
She turns slightly away from us and Mia chances another glance my way.
I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. I let my cold mask slide away, smiling at her and winking.
She looks a little confused, blinking and narrowing her eyes slightly, but after a moment gives me a very small smile back before turning and running away.
Odessa turns back to find me nearly done with my bread already.
It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten, the bread baked to perfection, the cheese thick and flavorful and toasted just enough to be crunchy the way I like.
I don’t even know when the last time I’ve eaten anything was.
On the ship before I met with Tesni? And how long ago was that?
Days? My stomach makes an obscenely loud grumbling sound, demanding more, and Odessa quirks a dark brow, the two golden rings through it glinting in the sunlight.
I pretend that I didn’t hear a thing and instead decide to see if I can glean any useful information from her.
“Are all Hunting parties this large? I always thought Hunters traveled in small groups. Did he really think hundreds of men—and women—were required to subdue me? I’m flattered, really, but—”
“Hunting…?” she interrupts with a frown.
“We’ll be riding most of the day,” Blackheart says, striding towards us.
“If I hear complaints, I’ll gladly gag you.
” He smirks like he hopes that he’ll have the opportunity to do just that, popping a piece of some kind of cooked meat into his mouth that smells like heaven.
He catches me staring. “Apologies that our humble fare isn’t up to your standards, Highness. ”