Chapter 13 #2
Edith opened her mouth to scream for help, but she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. The only thing she could force from her lips was a whimper.
Something tugged on the blanket, and then the fabric was ripped free. In a whoosh of air, the cover was gone, and she was horribly exposed.
“Oh shit,” said the voice, and then a hand landed on her shoulder.
Edith scrambled back, too scared to look up at the burlap-clad axe murderer. The hand on her shoulder gripped tighter but remained surprisingly gentle.
“Edith, it’s just me.” It was Thomasin’s voice.
Relief flooded Edith’s body, and she forced her eyes open, expecting to see Thomasin standing over the intruder like an avenging angel. Instead, Thomasin was crouched next to the bed with a burlap sack pushed up on her face, resting on her head like a hat.
She beamed at Edith. “See, it’s only me.” Her fingers undid the buttons of the coat in quick succession. She shrugged it off and held out her arms as if to display that her regular garb had been underneath the coat the whole time. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”
Edith, still curled in a ball on the bed, fought to catch her breath.
“Look!” She brought the axe up, and Edith flinched as the blade came dangerously close to her face. Thomasin grimaced apologetically. “No, it’s okay, look.” She dragged a finger across the flat side of the bloody blade, then brought her finger to her mouth and sucked the blood off.
Edith gasped, her mouth pinching into a disgusted frown.
“It’s just syrup and dye!”
“What—” Edith unfolded her limbs and pushed herself upright only to collapse back against the headboard. Her muscles were weak, addled by the too-quick transition from adrenaline to relief. “What were you trying to do?”
“I was teaching you self-defense, like you asked!”
“I did not ask you to do this,” Edith snapped back.
Thomasin’s shoulders fell, and her dopey smile went with them. “I’m sorry. I thought this was what you wanted, and I didn’t realize it would scare you this much.”
“I thought you were an axe-wielding lunatic! How did you think I would react?”
“I thought you’d fight me off! And then that was where the teaching part would come in,” she said, like it was the most reasonable plan in the world.
“What about me makes you think that I would have the skills or wherewithal to just jump into combat with a murderer who has broken into my room and startled me half to death?”
“I knew you wouldn’t really have any technical skills, but you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. I figured you’d have no problem jumping into action!”
All of the anger inside Edith evaporated.
“Why are you making a weird face?” Thomasin said cautiously.
Swallowing thickly, Edith said, “You think I’m brave?”
“Hell yeah, I do.”
“Even after what just happened?”
“You ran away from home to hire a mercenary. You’re so brave you’re crazy.”
Thomasin’s conclusion was incomprehensible to her. A minute ago, Edith had been hyperventilating under a blanket. Thomasin had seen all of that, and still she thought Edith was brave. No one had ever thought her brave before. She was the gentle, quiet girl with a delicate constitution.
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Thomasin’s shoulders, hugging the woman tightly to her. “Thank you,” she said into her hair. Edith felt Thomasin’s own arms come around her, settling on her lower back.
“Anytime?” The pitch of her voice tipped up at the end of the word, turning it into a question.
Edith pulled back enough to look Thomasin in her bewildered eyes. “For the thinking I’m brave part. Not for the pretending to murder me part.”
“Understood.” The abashed smile was back in full force.
Edith couldn’t withstand the force of it, so she buried her face back into Thomasin’s mess of curls. “Scare me like that again,” she said, “and I’ll axe-murder you.”
“Fair enough,” Thomasin said with a laugh.
Edith summoned back an air of dignity. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to prepare for the day.”
“Of course, my lady,” Thomasin said in a mockingly haughty voice.
The door closed behind her, and Edith got dressed, then went over to the vanity to begin the lengthy process of styling her hair. Once the last tendril had been pinned in place, a knock at the door sounded. Edith’s brow scrunched.
Her face fell when she opened the door to see Worthing and not Thomasin as she had expected. “Can I help you?” Worthing was lucky that politeness had been so deeply ingrained in her.
“Thomasin would like to speak to you at the stables,” he said.
“Why?”
“I don’t presume to know the machinations of her mind.” His words were clipped, irritable.
Edith shrugged and slipped on her shoes. When she reached the stables, she paused. Thomasin was facing away from her, deep in conversation with Jay. She had never seen Jay look so angry before.
“You have to tell her,” he said to Thomasin, not having spotted Edith where she lingered half hidden behind the stable door. She pressed her back to the wooden planks, staying in the shadows.
“There is no point in hurting her now.” Thomasin’s reply was gruff, and Edith had to lean in closer to make out the words. Especially since her own heartbeat was now roaring in her ears.
“You’re already hurting her. She almost died of an infected wound because she wanted to impress you,” Jay said. The roar stuttered as her heart skipped a beat. There went any hope they weren’t talking about her. “She would do anything for you. It’s not right that she has no idea what you did.”
“Technically, I saved her from her father.”
Her father? Dread creeped through Edith’s bones.
Jay barked a sardonic laugh. “You’re better than that.”
“What did you just say to me?” Thomasin’s voice dropped to an octave that Edith had come to recognize, the one that was meant to have her enemies running for their lives.
“Edith is a good person. She doesn’t deserve this. She thinks you’re her friend—”
“What’s wrong with that?” Thomasin interjected.
“What’s wrong with—” Jay sputtered in disbelief, then exhaled sharply. “Jesus, boss. She trusts you, and you ransomed her to her father!”
Ransom. The word clanged through Edith, hit her like a physical blow. It didn’t make sense. Her mind couldn’t wrap around it. Thomasin ransomed her. Thomasin lied. Was Thomasin even her friend? Was all of this still a lie?
Edith felt impossibly foolish. She should have known this couldn’t all be true.
She wasn’t particularly suited to adventure, to danger.
But she had never really felt like she was suited to her normal life either.
Wherever she went, there always seemed to be something off about her.
Something strange about her that everyone but her could see.
Everyone had seemed to agree that Edith belonged on the outskirts, never to be included, never worthy of having her own story.
These last weeks with Thomasin, though, Edith had finally been beginning to feel like her existence made sense somewhere, that there wasn’t something inherently wrong about her that would always keep her set off in solitude. Had she just been the butt of the joke this whole time?
All she knew was that she couldn’t face Thomasin.
But her retreat was clumsy, and gravel crunched beneath her boot.
Jay and Thomasin went silent. Before she could make a run for it, Thomasin was swinging the stable door open.
Her eyes landed on Edith with such intensity that the breath punched out of her.
“Edith, please wait. You have to listen to me.” Thomasin sounded desperate. That made Edith pause. Thomasin was never desperate. A reckless glimmer of naive hope fluttered in Edith’s stomach. Perhaps she had not imagined all of it. Perhaps Thomasin did have some affection for her.
Edith squeezed her eyes shut and willed her mind to function normally.
Thomasin had lied to her in the worst possible way.
She had actively tried to cause her harm and had used her for her family’s wealth.
But wasn’t that to be expected when working with a mercenary?
What she hadn’t expected were the long talks and frequent laughs.
The ways Thomasin watched out for her. The companionable silences, and the thrills of adventuring with someone at her side.
Edith hadn’t expected to make a friend. Maybe it was impossibly idealistic of her, but Edith hoped that, despite the betrayal, Thomasin felt the same way about her.
There was only one way to find out. Terrified at what she would see on Thomasin’s face, Edith turned to look at her.