The old woman’s smile faded. She turned her gaze toward the snow-covered pen, her shoulders stooping slightly as though weighed by more than years. “I left my home because I saw what fear does when it festers. Folk whisper, then they accuse, and soon the flames rise. I will not see such things happen here.”
Fawn’s heart quickened, unease mingling with compassion. “Then tell me, do you think that is what stirs now? That this attack is only the beginning?”
Elune looked back at her, her eyes dark pools in the pale morning light. “I think that the world is never as safe as we wish it to be. And sometimes the greatest danger lies closest to home.”
Fawn’s breath caught, her lips parting to ask more, but Elune turned away, her cloak whispering over the snow as she began her walk slowly back toward the village.
Sprig let out a faint mewl, and Fawn held him closer. Her heart thudded, each beat echoing the question Elune had left unspoken: What evil lies close to home?
CHAPTER 17
Several hours had passed, and still there was no word of returning to her cottage. Fawn stood near the steps of the keep, Sprig tucked in his pouch, her eyes scanning the pale sky. The air carried a bite that made her shiver, but more than that, it held the weight of coming snow. She knew the scent well enough. If more fell before night, the path back would be buried, and her animals would be left waiting another day.
Her chest tightened, thinking of how Rhodes had given his word to her.
Movement drew her attention. Not far from her, Rhodes strode with long, purposeful steps, Boyce at his side. They spoke low until Boyce spotted his wife stepping out of their cottage and he dipped his head to Rhodes and turned away toward where she waited with a smile.
Fawn cupped her hands to her mouth. “Rhodes!”
He halted, turning his head. For a moment she thought he would come to her, but instead he called out in a brisk tone before turning away. “I have no time now.”
Something hot and sharp flared in her chest. No time? No time to keep his promise?
Before she could stop herself, she bent, scooped up a handful of snow, and rolled it swiftly between her palms. With a fierce flick of her wrist, she sent it flying.
The snowball struck Rhodes squarely between his broad shoulders.
Gasps erupted. Every sound in the village stilled, the scrape of shovels, the chatter of women, even the children’s laughter. All froze as Rhodes stopped in his tracks.
The world seemed to hold its breath as he slowly turned, a few flakes clinging to the back of his dark hair, and his eyes locking on her with a weight that made the air quiver. He stood still a long moment, then, with measured steps, he began to walk toward her.
Fawn refused to flinch, though her heart pounded against her ribs. The villagers’ glances shifted between them, whispers curling like smoke in the frozen air.
When Rhodes reached the center of the yard, he bent swiftly, scooped up a handful of snow, and rolled it into a tight ball. Without hesitation, he sent it flying.
It struck her square in the shoulder.
Gasps rippled, but then a shocked silence followed as Rhodes’s mouth curved into a grin.
No one had ever seen their laird in such a playful manner.
Fawn blinked, stunned, then her eyes narrowed even as a smile tugged at her lips. She crouched, gathered her own handful of snow, and packed it fast.
“This is war!” she shouted, her voice carrying through the stunned villagers.
Snow flew. One after another, they flung icy missiles, laughter spilling free despite the crowd watching in open-mouthed disbelief. Children began to cheer, too astonished to hold back.
Splotches of white spattered Rhodes’s cloak and shoulders; Fawn’s hair glistened with powder. She bent for another, but before she could rise, Rhodes lunged forward. He caught her around the waist, hauling her up against him.
“Victory,” he declared, his grin triumphant as he held her tight.
Breathless, her cheeks flushed from cold and laughter, Fawn met his gaze with a spark of her own. “Aye, victory,” she conceded, her smile bright—until it faltered. Her voice dropped, firm and steady. “But you gave me your word.”
The humor drained from Rhodes’s face, but not from his eyes. He knew well what she meant. He turned his head, his voice ringing sharp and strong across the yard.
“Boyce! Gather a few men and two horses for transport. Now.”
For a moment there was only silence, then the stir of warriors moving, the villagers parting as their laird’s command carried on the cold air.
