Three Guesses #2
Like the gravel crunching under steady-paced hooves, Dommik’s next words ground out low and rough. “The most talented tend to find themselves the most comfortable.”
An exhilarating shiver raced down my spine with his predatory glare, but I schooled my prey-like reaction into that of the confident lady of high-breeding I had trained to become all my life. I straightened my back, returning his unrelenting gaze with one of my own.
“Well, considering your insistence in bringing me to the Hive, I expect to be quite comfortable.” I fixed my eyes ahead.
Framed by reaching branches of mature pines, the moonlit path resembled a natural tunnel rather than a road. The weight of his prodding stare lit up a small piece of me that craved this kind of attention.
In my former life, before my husband’s death, the arrest, the keep, and the axe, I might have chastised myself for the flutters lingering in my chest. But there might not be enough life left to waste time on shame.
This level of attention didn’t bother me. It was when attention turned into expectation that things could get dicey. But years of walking that fine line in Illica court taught me how to handle a man. This one would be no different.
“Remember, only as long as you’re useful,” he chided.
I clenched my teeth and despite the allure of ignorance, I had to know the stakes. “And if I’m not?”
“Well, maybe you’ll get the death you seem so eager for,” he mused aloud, but what went unsaid was how my family could be next if I failed the Hive.
Every word, every moment, every move was dangerous now. I stole a fleeting glance at Dommik, whose head tilted back, admiring the onyx sky. He could prove useful. An ally if necessary.
I cleared my throat and asked, “And you? Do you visit the Hive often?”
The Traveler clicked his tongue. “Why, lovely? Worried you’ll never see me again?”
Heat flushed my skin and I swallowed thickly. “I’m merely curious if Travelers have residence within the Hive or if you slink off to some other forest dwelling.”
A chuckle floated from under his hood. “I expect you’ll run into me from time to time.”
It was a cryptic non-response, but it did provide a kernel of comfort. A familiar face would be welcome. Especially his.
Our slow and lumbersome pace wore on. My eyes grew heavy as I rocked with the shifting mare beneath me. The rustling, discarded leaves of the Eckwood whispered to each other, their gossip carried through barren branches on a cold, biting breeze.
“Praying again?” The question caught me off guard. His insinuation was playful and forward. We both knew what he meant.
“Reminiscing,” I lied, if for no other reason than to change the topic from my self-pleasure.
He turned his head, raised his brows, and prodded, “Go on then, tell me more.”
“No.” The resolve in my tone was as unmovable as the Irriset mountains at the end of our pilgrimage. I denied him for two reasons.
First, and foremost, because I didn’t have another fib to follow my first minor fabrication. And second, because our cunning back-and-forth was fun. Cerebral and challenging. Even if he was escorting me to a torturous end. I could enjoy the journey a little bit. Couldn't I?
“No?” His tone indicated he didn’t hear the rejection very often. And I didn’t elaborate. Two front riders in our party exchanged glances.
“I’m here. Riding beside you. Willingly delivering myself to the Hive. I owe you nothing else.” A rider behind me fell into a coughing fit, the result of failing to cover their reaction to my brazen response.
Dommik smirked, unfazed. “Oh, Reyva. All we have is each other for entertainment. Humor me.”
He completely dismissed the five Travelers accompanying us on our journey, like their presence didn’t matter.
“Lady Bergmont,” I corrected, tilting my chin as a bright star shot across the sky.
“I bet five gold pieces I can guess correctly in three tries.” His arrogance was unsurprising and his efforts would be useless.
“Fine. I’ll take your coin. Three guesses.” Our charged glance dared one another. A familiar flutter came alive in my chest with the opportunity for something new or perilous.
“Well, Lady Bergmont, you’re quite transparent.” His teeth, white as the ivory moonlight, peeked through a full-lipped, handsome smirk at my scoff. “I’m sorry, lovely, it’s true.”
“It’s Lady Bergmont to you. Not lovely. Not Reyva.
Lady Bergmont,” I bit out. A different rider let out a low whistle.
My mare twitched her ears at the sound. Our company seemed to enjoy the show Dommik and I put on, so I decided to entertain them.
“And if I’m so predictable and boring, maybe we should go back to riding in silence. ”
He clicked his teeth. “Don’t be sour.”
“Guess. Or don’t guess.” I tipped my head side to side and rolled my shoulders back.
“Your first horse.”
“Incorrect.” Just like all his other guesses would be. “My first horse threw me. I try not to think about it while I’m in the saddle.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“Fine. Not a horse. Maybe another beast. Maybe…a lover.” Something between a purr and a whisper rolled out of his mouth and hung between us.
My knuckles whitened around the reins.
“Your late husband.” He tutted my responding flinch. “Oh! Not your husband then.”
“Wrong on both accounts. Game over,” I declared. My late husband, Hollis, was a sore subject. But Beau? He was completely off limits.
“You don’t win if you’re not honest.” Dommik clicked his teeth with an all too knowing look. “I fear—”
Somewhere in the near distance, bushes rustled and an animal keened, stealing my focus.
“You fear wha—”
He hushed me, twisting in his saddle, and rummaged for something in his rucksack. Whispered orders flowed amongst the guards who quietly secured torches and weaponry.
“What is it?” I whispered.
An arrow whistled through the air and silenced any response Dommik could offer.
My eyes flared in slow horror as it found its piercing home in the neck of my mare.
I tried, and failed, to cover my scream.
My stomach twisted knots around itself. Her knees buckled, sending us careening toward the ground.