“Don’t put words in my mouth,” she responded coolly. “I did nae say ye were weak. I said that itmusthurt. Ye are not weak, it’s true, but ye are certainly a stubborn fool. If ye continue swinging this arm around like ye were down there, this gash will not heal, and then where will ye be?”
She began reapplying the bandages around his arm, his warm skin flinching under her touch. She tried not to touch him more than was necessary, more for her own sake than his. If she touched him too much, she might start to imagine what it would be like to slide her hand up to his broad shoulders or down his forearms to where his wide, work-roughened hands flexed on his knees.
“If I am a fool, then ye should know better than to provoke me,” Noah responded sharply. “Nobody ever knows how a fool will react.”
Senga gave a short laugh. “Then at least I would get a reaction from ye. At this point, I’ll take what I can get.”
She had barely tied the knot in the bandages before Noah whisked his arm away. Jumping to his feet, he hauled his shirt over his head and rounded on her, eyes blazing.
Senga realized, to her own shock, that she’d made him angry.
“Ye will get nothing from me,” Noah snapped. “I owe ye nothing.”
The unfairness of it all made her eyes sting.
“I never said ye did! I’ll tell ye once more, Noah, do not put words in my mouth. I am not claiming that ye owe me a thing, I only want to get to the bottom of all this. Yer refusal to speak to me in itself is strange. Are ye surprised that I am confused? Why will ye not speak to me? Do ye think that avoiding me will make me disappear?”
He let out a low growl, spun on his heels, and strode away. Buoyed up by the injustice of it all, Senga hurried after him. To keep up with his long strides, she was obliged to jog after him.
“Why are ye doing this, Noah?”
“I could ask ye the same,” he responded, not even looking back at her. “Why can ye not leave me be? It’s better that way.”
“No, it is not! And will ye slow down, for heaven’s sake?”
In response, Noah stopped dead, rounding on her. His eyes blazed, glittering with whatsurelycould not be tears. He growled, low in his throat, and leaned forward until his nose almost brushed hers.
“Why did ye not go back with the others to the convent, Senga?” he whispered, voice catching on her name.
She swallowed thickly, tilting up her chin and forcing herself to meet his gaze. Once, she’d made a game out of counting the colors in his eyes. It wasn’t just brown and black, no, no. There were streaks of amber, gold, and even flecks of gray in there, to say nothing of a myriad shades of brown, from the palest sand all the way to the color of oak bark, and then onwards until the brown became black.
Those days seemed to have been a hundred years ago.
“Ye ask me why I stayed? Why do ye think?” she managed at last, her voice coming out as a tired whisper.
Noah blinked, almost seeming taken aback. He drew in a ragged breath, and for a moment, she thought he was going to speak again. Instead, he shook his head tightly, straightened up, and stormed away.
She followed him in silence until he reached the stables. He strode inside, never missing a beat, but Senga skidded to a halt at the threshold.
The scent of horses and fresh hay filled her senses, and she could almost taste the copper tang of blood in the air.
Noah paused, almost swallowed up by the gloom inside.
“That’s it, Senga,” he said, his voice heavy with bitterness. His eyes no longer soft, but dark and angry. “Ye stay outside, in the clean, fresh air. Leave me to the darkness and the blood. Ye’re good at it anyway.”
Then he moved further inside, the shadows eating him up completely.
“Noah!” Senga cried, but there was no response.
Chapter 5
Nothing To Forget
Ten Years Ago
Senga stood in the middle of the tiny servant’s barrack, staring around her.
He isn’t here.
