Chapter 7 #2
"It's all right," Breana interrupted softly. "Ye needed yer rest as well." She slid out of the bed and brushed down her clothes, wishing she had time to bathe and something to change into, but knowing that they simply had to keep going. "Are ye ready tae go?"
Eoin frowned. "I–I thought ye might want tae spend a little longer here. Maybe rest a bit more. We could even talk about—"
"We must set off immediately," Breana interrupted, looking away from him quickly.
She did not want him to see her expression now.
"We promised Cailean that we would find his sister, and we willnae let him down.
We ken that we're close, based on the directions I worked out with Ferda; there must be someone around here who kens where we have tae go. "
"Breana…"
Brusquely, Breana turned back to him, now a mask of stoic determination fixed firmly over her face.
"We'll buy some food that travels well from the proprietor, and we'll be off.
We can break our fast later, after we've covered some ground.
But I dinnae want tae stay around here much longer.
We ken now that the False King's men are roamin' these lands, and we cannae risk any of them spottin' us—or, worse, somehow gettin' ahead of our quest."
There was a brief pause, and Breana tensed as she wondered if Eoin was going to argue with her.
If he insisted that they talk about what had happened last night, or made her dwell on her father, or, God forbid, Nessa.
She wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle that.
She needed to be able to keep her mind right now and focus, and she didn't know if she could handle his gentleness and sympathy right now.
Thankfully, Eoin just sighed and nodded. "I'll go down and get some provisions, then," he said, getting to his feet, wincing slightly at what must have been sore muscles. "And make sure the horses have been cared for. Take yer time and prepare yerself, I'll see ye in a few moments."
Breana nodded, and waited until he had left the room and closed the door behind him.
When he was gone, she let out a long sigh.
She looked into the cracked mirror in the corner of the room and ran her hand through her loose hair.
It was knotted and all over the place, and her dress was ragged at the hem.
She had to smile slightly despite herself, wondering how Nessa would react if she could see the mess of Breana now.
The thought made her heart twist in pain, but the smile did not fade.
Breana reached into her pocket and drew out one of the plain ribbons she kept there, gathering her hair and pulling it back into a rough knot to keep it out of her face.
She glanced back at the bed where she had spent her first night of comfort in days, and back at the small wooden stool, allowing the implications to flood her for just a moment.
Then she took a deep breath and made for the door. Her journey wasn't done yet. Not even close.
Eoin was pleased to find that his and Breana's horses had been more than well taken care of, and the animals were clearly well-rested and ready for whatever the next part of the journey might bring.
He patted his own horse's nose, whispering thanks to the creature for its dedication to the journey so far, then turned to head back to the tavern.
It had been completely empty when he had walked through that morning, but he wasn't surprised to see that a few locals had started wandering in to find a hot breakfast. They all ignored him as he walked in, each focused on his own bowl of porridge or, for the rare one with a little more money, a fresh egg.
Eoin's stomach grumbled a little at the smell, but he walked past, distracted instantly when he heard two indistinct female voices near the bar.
He approached, and both women looked up.
Breana was wearing her hair tied back in a utilitarian way that surprisingly suited her, giving her a serious and practical look that matched with her determined expression.
Her long, elegant neck was on full display, and Eoin's eyes were drawn to the soft curve and the gentle dusting of freckles on her skin for a moment longer than they should.
His fingers tingled with the urge to brush the skin there to see how it would feel, and for just a few seconds he lost himself in that image.
"Can I help ye?" the other woman asked, jolting Eoin out of the brief fantasy and back to the moment at hand.
She was older, in her early fifties or so, and by her position behind the bar and the handkerchief tied in her hair, Eoin guessed that she must be the wife that the owner of the tavern had spoken about the night before.
"It's all right," Breana said softly. "He's me husband, the one we were talkin' of. He kens what we're doin', and he'll keep the secret."
Husband. Eoin felt a prickle all over his skin at the casual way she'd said the word, and he tried to compose his expression before the tavern woman noticed his reaction.
"Love, this is Aggie, the owner's wife," Breana explained. "I told her that we're seekin' out me sister at the hidden convent. She doesnae ken exactly where it is, but she kens enough directions tae lead us through the forests until we reach the general vicinity we're lookin' for."
"I wouldnae have told ye even that much if it wasnae for that symbol ye carry.
That organization deserves protection. If yer sister is one of them, then she's lucky," Aggie explained.
Eoin frowned, not understanding what the woman meant, then saw that Breana was holding a small embroidered patch of cloth with a white sparrow upon it.
They filled their packs with supplies of dried food, then ate a small bowl of porridge each at Aggie's insistence, before finally setting out.
"It was risky, showin' that tae her," Eoin commented as they mounted their horses and set out in the direction that Aggie had indicated. "Ye didnae ken if she was friendly."
"I ken. But risks are all we have," Breana replied. "And, luckily, it was a success."
Eoin couldn't disagree, but something about the way she said it bothered him.
There was a slight chill to her tone now, not aimed at him, but just retracting from her usual boundless warmth.
It wasn't unreasonable, but it did worry him.
Maeve was a spitfire, but Breana was like sunshine, and to hear that retreating in her tone felt… wrong.
They rode in silence for a while until the small village was far behind them. Then, Eoin asked, "Breana?"
"Yes?"
"Do ye want tae talk about—"
"I'm fine," she interrupted. "Come on. We're wastin' daylight."
She leaned forward and sped up her horse, and Eoin waited back for a moment before he followed.
His concern grew, and he knew that whatever she was holding down would burst out eventually.
However, he also knew that insisting would not help her now—not really.
And so, instead, he'd do all that he could. He'd be here for her, no matter what.
For as long as she needed.