“Yes, I gathered that,” Westley whispered, his eyes still glued to the door where she left. “She’s ...” But he had no words. He didn’t think his heart would ever beat properly again. Conalle chuckled.
“She has that effect on people.” He nudged Westley’s arm, shaking him out of his trance.
Conalle spoke up. “Well, you heard your general. Let’s get cleaning.”
Solveig exited the dining hall and fell to her knees. Her legs trembled, and her hands, now covered in blood, trembled. It had taken everything in her to put on that show of strength.
Her magic blistered her veins as she tried and failed to take deep breaths. When Liv said they’d tried to take her, Solveig’s mind clouded with memories, transporting her to the moment the Fae had grabbed her. Adrenaline rushed through her, her magic propelling her to act.
A wave of sickness surged, so strong she had to race to the bushes beside the building. She emptied her stomach, grateful no one was around to witness this less-than-flattering display.
Straightening and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she walked slowly to the stables to visit Helle, her legs still shaky and weak. She managed to make it there without anyone stopping her and slipped quietly into Helle’s stall. She leaned into the warmth of her horse, pulling strength from her.
It was too late to take her for a ride, so she grabbed the brush hanging on the hook outside the stall and methodically groomed Helle’s coat. Slowly her breaths came back to her, deep and even, her magic calming.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there, but she finished brushing Helle, giving her some oats and making her way out. As she passed, she caught movement in the stall next to Helle’s. It was usually empty since Helle could be unpredictable—her previous neighbours had suffered some nasty bites.
Solveig moved closer to inspect the shadows and a dark horse came forward to greet her.
He was the massive steed the prince had arrived on. Solveig let him come closer, the horse sniffing her. The beast stuck his head out and bumped her with his nose. She smiled at him.
“Well, hello there.” She reached up and stroked his face, his coat silky and smooth and well taken care of. “You’re a beauty, aren’t you?”Helle grunted beside her and Solveig rolled her eyes. She tipped her head towards Helle. “Don’t get on this one’s bad side. You may be bigger, but she’s meaner.” Then she looked at Helle. “Play nice.” And with another stroke of both Helle and the black horse, she left the stables feeling lighter.
When she reached her tent, Gerrie was already there cleaning herself up after the dining hall fiasco.
“How bad was it?” Solveig asked.
“The mess wasn’t too bad, but the blood took forever to scrub off the floor.”
“Youcleaned the blood?”
“Hel no, I made the Fae do it.”
Solveig grinned. “Good.”
“You did the right thing,” Gerrie said quietly.
“I know. I just wish I had been more in control.”
Gerrie scoffed. “Solveig, if you had more control, you’d be a goddess.”
“Goddesses don’t vomit in the bushes after they exact justice.” She gave Gerrie a pointed look.
“And how would you know that?” Gerrie raised an eyebrow.
“Everyone knows they force other people to vomit for them.”
“Smartass.” She grinned at Solveig. It was good to joke around a bit.
They readied for bed in silence. Solveig put the lanterns out one by one and sank into the soft, comfortable pile of furs and blankets. It was big enough for the two of them.
“What do you think of this last group?” she asked Gerrie.
“They’re all the same to me. Although it was surprising to see a prince.”
“Yes, I was surprised as well. I heard he joined the party late. I wonder why?” she muttered to herself.
“Such a pity about his face, though,” Gerrie said with an exaggerated sigh.
