Chapter 24 #2
She focused on the trees, the birds she spotted, the squirrels high up on the branches.
She concentrated and let her thoughts send the message. Take word to Amelia. I must speak with her. Warn her to be cautious. Fae has been seen.
The trees began to whisper, the birds took flight, and the squirrels hurried off. Her message was on the way.
Dar eased his horse beside hers.
She turned worried eyes on him. “Do you intend to hunt and capture a fae?”
“Fae folk are not easy to track or capture and nearly impossible to keep if by chance one is caught. My word is trusted. I need only see one myself to offer proof.” Dar’s brow narrowed in question as they continued along the road.
“Do you think the possible sudden appearance of the fae folk has anything to do with the healer we search for?”
Her eyes widened, wondering what Amelia might know yet didn’t tell her. “I hadn’t given that thought, but perhaps we will find a connection along the way. I assume we go to Ancrum.”
“Aye,” he said, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “We go there to see if we can find both men and see if there is talk of fae folk being spotted.”
“And your word the fae have shown themselves will be good enough for the king to accept?” she asked, worried the king would want more proof.
“The king will accept my word that the fae have been spotted, but he will want one captured so he can find out if the fae are the only ones who broke the agreement that his grandfather had secured.”
“And the Hunters will hunt them?” she asked, though knew his response.
“Aye, the Hunters will capture one of them and take it to the king.”
“But you said they were not easy to track or capture and nearly impossible to keep if caught,” she reminded him.
“For most, but not for a Hunter.”
Elara turned quiet. How did she keep her pledge to him and protect Amelia at the same time? She didn’t know and until she could figure something out, she would say nothing.
The fire burned low, its flames muted and steady, casting a soft glow across the small clearing.
Dar had chosen the place well, trees close enough to shelter them from the wind, but not so tight they trapped the smoke.
His men were spread out beyond the firelight, silent shadows on watch, their presence felt rather than seen.
Elara sat between Dar’s legs, her back resting against his chest, his arms wrapped around her as if she belonged there. Not claimed nor guarded. Simply held.
She fit against him with an ease that still surprised her.
The forest hummed quietly around them—night insects, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant call of something moving through the dark. Safe, for now.
Dar shifted slightly, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders, his chin resting briefly against her hair. He smelled of leather, smoke, and the night air. Solid and steady.
She broke the silence softly. “When we reach Ancrum, I want to enter the village alone.”
His arms tightened around her. “Nay.”
She felt the weight of the word more than she heard it, firm and instinctive.
She turned her head just enough to look back at him. Firelight caught the line of his jaw and the gray of his eyes. “Hear me first.”
He didn’t answer, but his hold loosened a fraction, a sign she recognized now. Permission to speak, not agreement.
“I’ve been there before,” she continued. “The healers know me. They trust me. If I arrive with you—especially with Hunters—it will close mouths instead of opening them.”
“They’ll know I’m close,” he countered.
“Aye,” she said. “And that alone will make them cautious. But if I walk in by myself, speak to them as an herb-scribe, not a wife escorted by a Hunter… they’ll talk.”
Dar stared into the fire, his jaw set tight. “You won’t go unguarded.”
“I won’t be unprotected,” she corrected gently. “There is a difference.”
He looked down at her then, searching her face as if weighing more than her words. He brushed his thumb along her forearm absently, a small, intimate gesture he didn’t seem aware of making.
“You ask me to let you walk into danger alone.”
“I ask you to trust my judgment,” she said quietly. “As I trust yours.”
That turned him silent.
The fire popped softly.
“You know I won’t willingly put you in harm’s path,” he said at last.
“And you know I won’t step into it blindly,” she countered.
He drew her closer again, his breath warm near her temple. For a long moment he said nothing, and she let the silence work, let him come to it on his own.
Finally, he sighed, low and resigned. “We will arrive soon after midday. I’ll have men watching the village from a distance. If anything feels amiss—anything—you leave at once.”
A smile curved her lips, small but genuine. “Aye, husband.”
His hand slid from her arm to her waist, fingers settling there with unmistakable familiarity. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her hair, then her temple—unhurried, certain.
She turned in his arms, just enough to face him, and rose to her knees. Their foreheads touched, breath mingling.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?” he asked.
“For trusting me.”
His gaze softened, something unguarded flickering there before he could hide it. He kissed her then, not demanding, not hurried. Just a slow, sure joining that spoke of warmth, of promise, of them.
He drew back reluctantly, wanting badly to be alone with her, and strip her naked—he took a breath. “Rest now. Tomorrow will ask much of you.”
She nodded and settled back against him, his arms closing around her once more as if they had always known where to belong.
Beyond the firelight, the Hunters kept watch.
But within its glow, for this one quiet moment, there was only warmth, trust… and the fragile peace they would soon leave behind.