Chapter 24 #3
“I, er …” I stammered, apparently unable to form words. “You disappeared.”
“You were keeping yourself busy enough.”
I stared into his eyes, not daring to let my gaze drop below his chin. “What are you doing out here?”
“Bathing, obviously,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I was filthy.”
“In the river?”
He glanced around pointedly. “Do you see a washroom anywhere, Miss Erramun?”
“Er, no.”
My breath hitched in my throat as he approached agonizingly slowly. I should leave. Immediately.
“There are some who consider it rude to stare,” he mused aloud.
I swallowed.
“I don’t mind it though.”
I spun, stalking off in the direction of the camp.
My flush spread to my chest like a bad sunburn.
Within seconds, Enhart appeared at my side with his breeches on, pulling his shirt over his head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flicker of gold as he tucked a viper-shaped pendant into the folds of his shirt.
A serpent with emerald eyes curled around a dagger.
“Admit it,” he said, grinning wickedly, “you missed me.”
I scoffed. “You weren’t gone for that long.”
“And yet you still came running after me.”
“Any decent person would let me be humiliated in peace,” I mumbled.
“Unfortunately for you, I am not a decent person.”
“I’ll say,” I snapped. I waved my hand in an arc, stepping through a portal that delivered me to our campsite. The prince’s laughter tickled my ears before it closed behind me.
A silvery glow crept across the campsite as we ate a simple meal of crusted bread, salted meat, and hard cheese in silence.
Enhart sat opposite me, one leg propped up as he leaned back against his pack.
My cheeks were still warm from our encounter in the woods, and I dared not meet his gaze lest he bring it up again.
I glanced upwards, grateful that there were no clouds tonight.
“Admiring the country sky?” Enhart asked, breaking the silence.
I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes I miss sleeping under the stars, okay?”
His head cocked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I considered his question for a moment. A part of me wanted to pretend I hadn’t heard him, but I supposed there was no need to hide anything from the man who had already witnessed the most traumatic moments of my life. “I spent a lot of time on the road after I left my village,” I explained.
“You didn’t seek refuge in any of the neighboring cities? You told me that you weren’t far from Bard.”
“Do you recall the High Priest from my memories?”
He nodded.
“His name is Silas Proctor,” I explained, the name bitter on my tongue.
“Wealdstone’s self-proclaimed leader, and well-connected by virtue of his position.
He was horrified by what I did to those men, and so when I fled, he used his connections to ensure that I had nowhere safe to lay my head in the Outlands. ”
“So you lived on the road?” He lifted his gaze to mine. The shadows danced across his chiseled features.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. A young woman traveling on her own in the Outlands was already a strange enough sight to raise eyebrows,” I explained.
“And rumors spread from Wealdstone like nightshade to the heart. And so I went from village to village as quietly as I could, doing my best to evade anyone who may have heard of the Witch of Wealdstone.”
“Was there no one who could help you?” he asked, his tone sharp.
I shook my head. “Nearly everyone I knew was still in Wealdstone and I couldn’t risk making contact with anyone else, in case it made it back to their families that they had helped me.”
“That’s very noble of you,” he said.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I whispered. It had been a miserable existence, wandering the Outlands like a lost spirit.
I lifted my head to the sky, where the constellation Lucius, the white wolf, blinked above our heads.
I had forgotten how much brighter the stars were outside of the city.
“I’ve never felt as alone as I did when I first left Wealdstone,” I said.
“But if I ever felt a sense of comfort during the long nights, it was when I fell asleep under the stars.” A breeze tugged at the loose hairs framing my face, and I pulled my cloak tighter around me.
“Why did you settle in Valnar in the end?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Because no one in Valnar had ever heard my name. My past couldn’t follow me there. I could be anyone.”
“I can’t say that I relate,” he replied. “But I understand.”
I glanced across the campfire. I wasn’t sure that he could ever understand.
He spent an awful lot of time complaining about the court and its people, spouting veiled accusations about their vile deeds, but I wondered if he truly resented his lot in life or if he had simply grown bored of it after two centuries. I wanted to ask, but I held my tongue.
The grass rustled as he leaned back into his bedroll. With his long lashes splayed across his cheeks, he looked almost like a boy, the burdens of his station erased.
“Well, one thing’s for certain,” he muttered without opening his eyes.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Their loss was our gain, witch.”