11. Claire
Claire
By nightfall, my bones ached from the carriage’s relentless jostling.
When Caspian helped me down, my legs nearly gave out beneath me. I steadied myself quickly, hoping neither of them noticed, though the ground seemed to sway for a moment as I adjusted. The world felt… off after so much motion.
We had stopped in a clearing. If it could even be called that.
The woods pressed in close around us, tall trees looming, their branches weaving together overhead.
The last light of the day had long since vanished, leaving everything drenched in shadow.
It was far darker here than Thistlebrook had ever been at night.
There were no familiar lanterns. No warm glow from nearby homes.
Just darkness, and the sounds of leaves shifting, wind whispering, and a distant creature crunching over brush.
My hands trembled at my sides. I tucked them into my skirts, willing them to still.
Being in constant motion all day had left me hollowed out.
My knees felt weak, my stomach churned faintly, and a dull nausea lingered just beneath the surface.
Traveling hadn’t been fast, like I had imagined it to be, but slow and endless.
The kind of slow torture that crept into you until you realized too late how exhausted you truly were.
I watched as Ash led her horse away, securing it to the carriage with practiced ease.
Honestly, I had never encountered someone with so little patience, let alone someone so relentlessly miserable.
It was exhausting just looking at her. What could possibly possess a person to wake up every morning and choose to be that rude?
I had been perfectly polite—mostly—yet she treated my entirely reasonable requests for oxygen and basic circulation as if I were committing high treason.
Outside, Caspian began unpacking, organizing, and setting things into place with quick, efficient movements.
Now, he was a gentleman. He understood that a journey didn’t require one to devolve into a wretch.
Ash, on the other hand, seemed to view misery as a personality trait.
If she hated her job so thoroughly, she really should consider a different line of work.
Preferably one that kept her far away from civilized society.
Nonetheless, I lingered in the middle of the clearing, unsure. What… was I meant to do?
Before I could gather the courage to ask, Ash returned with a bucket of water, tending to her horse with quiet focus.
Caspian worked just as quickly beside her, the two of them moving like they had done this a hundred times before.
Within minutes, a tent stood where there had been nothing.
I felt a small wave of relief wash through me.
At least I would have somewhere to sleep.
I stepped forward, lifting the edge of the flap to peer inside—
A hand shot out.
“What’re you doing?” Ash asked flatly.
I blinked, startled. “I’d like to see inside.”
“That’s not your tent.”
For a moment, I simply stared at her, certain I had misheard. “…Then—what… where is…” I trailed off, glancing around as if another tent might magically appear.
Ash gestured vaguely over my shoulder. “Have fun.”
I caught a glimpse of a crumbled pile of materials behind me.
“You cannot be serious,” I whirled back to her with a look of profound disbelief. “I’m setting this up?”
“You’re a grown woman, Briarwood, not a helpless toddler. Match the poles to the holes and figure it out. Or sleep in the dirt. I really don’t have a horse in this race.”
I crossed my arms. “As the person being escorted for this expedition, I believe I should have priority seating. Or sleeping, as it were. Especially if you’d like a decent tip.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Garrick pays us,” Ash countered, finally fixing me with a cold, unyielding stare that made my throat go dry. “And my contract says I must keep you alive, Briarwood. It doesn’t say I have to tuck you in or do everything for you.”
I stared down at the pile of fabric and sticks, then back up at her, my jaw slack. “I have no idea how to set this up.”
“I suggest you stop talking and start figuring it out,” Ash replied, already walking away. “The sun goes down in an hour, and the mosquitoes here are merciless. If you aren’t under canvas by dark, they will skin you alive and use your bones for toothpicks.”
I let out a sharp, indignant huff, spinning on my heel so violently my skirts whipped against my shins.
Miserable, rude brute.
I marched over to the canvas pile, making sure each of my footsteps struck the dirt with as much regal fury as I could muster. I nudged a wooden stake with the toe of my shoe, watching it roll a pathetic two inches into the dirt.
I had absolutely no idea what to do next.
When I glanced back, I caught just as Ash’s tent flap flapped shut behind her. And then she was gone.
Just like that.
I gawked at the pile. Behind me, the crackle of fire began to build as Caspian coaxed it to life.
Caspian glanced over his shoulder at me. “They’re not as difficult to set up as they look.”
My throat felt unbearably dry. I could have cried from exhaustion, from hunger, from the overwhelming weight of it all.
And this was only the first day.
“I’ve never done this before, I don’t even know where to begin,” I admitted quietly, looking down at the canvas disaster.
He sighed and rose to his feet. The warmth of the fire reached me, brushing against my skin, a small comfort in an otherwise unfamiliar world. I wrapped my arms around myself, watching him approach, hoping that I would not have to face this alone.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Caspian said softly, kneeling down to pick up one of the wooden stakes. “Ash has… very little patience on a good day, and this isn’t a good day. This is actually her last official job for Garrick. She’s incredibly eager to just get it over with.”
“She desperately needs to learn some basic manners, and maybe some sympathy for others.”
Caspian let out a low laugh, the sound bright against the darkening woods. “That wouldn’t go amiss. And you’re right, she’s about as pleasant as a cornered badger.”
His expression softened then, a look of deep, quiet respect settling into his features.
“But she’s the best there is, Claire. I learned everything I know about fighting from her.
If anyone can keep us alive out here, it’s Ash.
Even if she makes us miserable while doing it.
She takes her jobs very seriously, and trust me when I say that she will put her life on the line to protect you out here in the Wilds. ”
I raised my chin. “I hope so, considering that’s her job.”
Caspian’s smile dropped, and I felt an ounce of guilt for my quick retort. He sighed. “Come, let me show you how to put this tent together before the mosquitoes truly do eat us alive.”