They were rapidly approaching the edge of town and Aveta was glad. She was eager to be out of the other woman’s company. Though Aveta understood that she was several years younger, the other woman unsettled her. Her words and gestures seemed to carry an underlying threat. Rhiannon rarely ventured outside the confines of the village and Aveta was immensely grateful for that.
“May I speak with you about a personal matter?” Rhiannon asked, touching Aveta’s arm.
Biting back a sigh of frustration, she stopped, turning to face Rhiannon. “Of course.” Whether she liked it or not, Aveta was a healer and she had a duty to help anyone in need.
Unfortunately, Rhiannon was not in need of help.
“I would prefer if you would turn Alaunus away should he return to your home,” Rhiannon stated. “As I am promised to him, it disturbs me that he spends time alone with you.”
Rhiannon’s words were calm and sweetly spoken. Her voice was nearly friendly. But Aveta was looking into her black eyes, and the expression in them was anything but amiable. Something fierce and hard reflected from the dark depths and Aveta felt a shiver of premonition. Rhiannon may seem young and pliable, but a core of pure rock resided within her, hard and unyielding.
“Alaunus is a man and capable of his own decisions,” Aveta replied, shifting her basket to her left hand and leaving her dominant free. “He comes to my home of his own volition.”
For a moment, the mask cracked and Aveta could see what lay beneath Rhiannon’s delicate, feminine facade. While she always sensed it was there, witnessing the rage and the hatred was enough to make her skin burn. Rhiannon was a roiling pit of darkness. As quickly as it had fallen, the mask was lifted, leaving only pale serenity in its wake.
“All I ask is that you turn him away should he come again,” Rhiannon repeated.
“Good afternoon, Rhiannon,” Aveta replied, ignoring the other woman’s words.
As she walked away, Aveta felt the gaze of the younger woman like a dagger between her shoulders.
