“That’s very unfair.”
“It is.” Venn eyed her. “But life isn’t always fair, is it?”
“No,” she whispered. “It isn’t.”
His eyes traced over her face, and with the flame and shadow from the fire dancing over his expression, she struggled to guess his thoughts. But she could feel the moment he pulled back, even though he didn’t actually move. His gaze shuttered, and his tone was quiet but firm as he said, “You should get some sleep, Vera. I’ll take first watch.”
Fight for it.
She wanted to, but Venn’s sudden remoteness intimidated her. He didn’t want to talk, that much was clear. Not tonight, anyway. Not when he was so tired, worn, and guarded.
So she tightened her hold on Rebecca and stood. But before she moved for her bedroll, she cast one last look at Venn still seated by the fire. “I’m glad the wolf found the princess,” she whispered. “That he didn’t give up. It would have been tragic if he had.”
Venn blinked, clearly surprised by her words.
Her cheeks warmed, and she took a step back. “Goodnight, Venn.”
“Goodnight,” he echoed, even though she was already walking away.
Chapter 10
Venn
Fates blast it—why couldn’t Venn read minds? It would certainly be useful. Vera’s words from last night kept spinning in his thoughts.
“I’m glad the wolf found the princess. That he didn’t give up. It would have been tragic if he had.”
It felt like she was talking about more than the story. Maybe about them? Had it been an invitation for him to try again with her, or was it nothing at all? It was enough to drive him mad.
He’d been so tired when she’d spoken, and he hadn’t known how to respond to the unexpected comment. Then she’d walked away, and he hadn’t wanted to call her back. He had a plan to win her back slowly, and nowhere in that plan was he supposed to blurt out,“I love you—please say you love me, too.”
That was far too reminiscent of the last time he’d desperately said those words. No, this time he would be more cautious. He would make sure she was ready to hear them.
Of course, traveling with three young children meant there was never a great opportunity for him and Vera to talk. He’d have to figure out something soon, though, because being around her constantly and not being able to kiss her was the worst sort of torture.
Finn and Sarah were on the horse, and Vera carried Rebecca in the sling. Venn tugged the horse along, their pace slow. They were passed by several wagons and multiple riders; Mortisians, mostly, but Venn had noticed an increase in Devendrans.
When they stopped for the midday meal, they were still close enough to the road that they could watch the people who passed them. The Mortisians pointedly ignored them, or conversely shot them pointed looks with twisting scowls. The Devendrans looked worn as they shuffled down the road. Not merchants or tradesmen, but refugees. Far more than Venn would have expected. It did lend some credence to Finn’s assertion that there was indeed a refugee camp outside of Zahdir—every Devendran was traveling in that direction.
Venn’s forehead creased as he studied them. The majority were men, but there were women too, and some scattered children. Some refugees were common at any time—but this?
A quick glance at Vera showed that she had also noticed and found it odd. She frowned as she watched them, and when she shot a look at Venn, he shrugged minutely.
Curiosity bit at him, and he knew Serene would be interested in knowing about the influx of refugees. How many there were. What cities they had come from.Whythey had come. They couldn’t all be criminals running from Devendra, like Finn’s father.
Unless Finn’s father wasn’t a criminal, as the boy insisted . . .
The Hunt.
Venn had never heard of such a military group, but something about the name chilled him.By order of the crown prince . . .
Had Finn misheard? That seemed an easy answer, but it wasn’t a compelling one. The boy had been adamant, and he hadn’t changed his story. But what did it all mean?
Venn didn’t have an answer. And that just made him feel wary about the entire situation.
A small group of Devendran travelers peeled away from a larger group on the road, and Venn’s spine stiffened as the men moved toward them. His knives were on his belt, though he didn’t draw one. He’d set his longsword beside him so he could sit and eat more comfortably, but it was within easy reach. He remained seated as he watched their approach. There were five men, and all had knives belted at their hips. Tension pulled at Venn’s shoulders, but he forced himself to stay on the ground.
No need to provoke a fight, if there didn’t have to be one. He was outnumbered, and the children were a distinct vulnerability. Vera had some defensive training—as all of Serene’s maids did—but this was not a fight he wanted to engage in.
