A hopeless, heavy feeling pulled at my chest. I had been so sure I could slip free, so certain I could take care of myself. Little John always told me Father had evaded the sheriff more times than anyone could count. Yet here I was: chilled to the bone, chained, and aching with hunger after only one decent meal in three days. I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared into the flames, feeling foolish and small.
I was so busy feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t notice the chain shift until I heard footsteps behind me. Baron emerged, red-eyed and looking utterly exhausted.
“You’re up early,” he said.
I tried to stop my teeth from chattering. “I’m just b-being a good guest and starting a f-fire for coffee,” I told him with all the attitude I could muster. It wasn’t much. I was too cold and my words came out in a stammer.
“Did you sleep well?” Baron asked.
“No,” I stated flatly, forcing my voice not to tremble. “I didn’t sleep at all.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
“You didn’t s-sleep?” I asked, surprised.
He stared incredulously at me. “And why on earth would I sleep when I saw what you did to Dorian when he turned his back on you? I kept imagining you would try to sneak up and strangle me to death with this wretched chain.”
“What would I do with your big fat body if I did strangle you?” I retorted. “You can toss me over your shoulder easily enough, but what would I do with two hundred fifty pounds of dead man?”
“That’s a good point,” Baron acknowledged. “Though I seem to remember being tossed overyourshoulder not all that long ago.”
“If anyone should be worried about being strangled in their sleep, it’s me,” I stated vehemently.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the slowly growing fire. I shivered.
“Are you cold?” Baron asked mildly.
“No, I’m just building a fire so I can cool off because I’m too hot right now,” I answered sarcastically.
“I’m just saying—it got cold last night.”
“I noticed.”
He shot me a sideways grin. “Maybe if you had a big fat body too, you’d be able to stay warmer.”
“Oh, is that why you aren’t cold?”
“That plus my warm, warm blankets. You should’ve asked for one,” Baron said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Just watch. I’ll burn them and the tent tonight,” I threatened. “Then you will be warm for the rest of your life.”
Baron eyed me balefully. “Well, there goes another night of my sleep.”
I smiled vindictively. “Good.”
CHAPTER 11
Iwas forced to shadow Baron everywhere he went. After morning exercises, Baron claimed that he normally would have had weapons training next. “But for some strange reason,” he added lightly, “No one wants you near any weapons.”
I smirked. “I wonder why.”
The sheriff had already forced Baron to remove any and all weapons from his person the day before, fearing that I would come into possession of one while Baron slept or was distracted. I wasn’t even allowed to watch the weapons training. Instead, Baron and I were sent to gather firewood.
We ventured into the woods, and he hefted heavy logs back to the campsite while I casually picked up a few slender twigs along the way. “We’re supposed to be collecting actual firewood,” he said to me as he saw my pitiful collection.
“I’m a prisoner. What incentive would I have to help out around camp?”
“Because everyone gets cold.”
