The secret wasn't widely known, and Eva could see from Caden's expression that he wanted to keep it that way.
It was also the reason they'd felt comfortable with Reece's departure for Wayfarer's Keep and why they hadn't felt it necessary to have a replacement before he left.
Reece's exhale held frustration—and surrender.
Taking that as their cue, Roscoe and Ghost swung onto their horses.
At a look from Caden, Fiona stopped Roscoe, patting his horse on the neck. "Change in plans. I want you to accompany Eva to camp."
Roscoe's mouth dropped open in protest.
Ghost wiggled his fingers at Roscoe as Fiona strode over to her own mount. "Have fun playing with the rest. I'll be sure to save you some killing for later."
Roscoe sputtered as Ghost wheeled his horse, touching the sides lightly with his heels. The horse plunged forward, Fiona's following close behind.
Caden was the last to swing onto his mount, a piebald stallion by the name of Nell who was as sweet as Caia was stubborn.
Caden and Eva shared one last penetrating look, before he touched his heels to Nell's sides.
"Let's go, Nell."
Nell started forward at a walk that quickly turned into a canter.
"That was enlightening," Van said as the rest disappeared over the hill.
Roscoe's expression was still a touch disgruntled at being ordered to remain behind as he glared at the clan leader.
Van ignored him to focus on Eva. "So—you're the throwaway I've heard so much about."
Eva stiffened at the subtle insult. Throwaway was a term the Trateri called those Lowlanders whose villages gave them up as a tithe to the Trateri.
Even if they'd been the ones to suggest the terms, the fact the villages accepted them was a big part of why the Trateri looked down on them. They saw it as cowardly.
They liked to believe the clans would never act in such a lowly fashion.
Eva wasn't so sure about that. It was impossible to know what you'd do until confronted with the reality of your own short comings.
People, in her experience, trended toward prioritizing their own survival. The Trateri were no different—though their very capability meant they were far less likely to find themselves in a situation where survival depended on impugning their honor.
Roscoe frowned, knowing Eva's thoughts on that word and started to speak.
Eva shook her head at him.
Some things she needed to handle on her own.
Perceptions could only be changed by the person in question.
Eva had learned a lot caring for the herd and seeing how stallions and mares established dominance. The Trateri might be human, but many of their behaviors mirrored what Eva saw among animals.
This was a test. A subtle one aimed at establishing who she was and how far she could be pushed.
Allow it to pass unremarked and he'd come at her twice as hard next time, thinking her soft.
"Perhaps you're mistaken, Lion." Eva's expression was remote as she met Van's eyes. "Or maybe you're simply ill informed."
Van's mouth twitched at the intended insult.
That's right. He wasn't the only one who could use words as weapons.
