‘I happen to like running.’
‘I’ve noticed.’ He exited the water. ‘Sure, you could probably knock some of the recruits off their feet in the first few weeks, but they’ll get stronger and better—you won’t.’
She followed him out and bent to collect both their shoes since he was carrying the fish. ‘I might.’
He turned to face her. ‘Then what? Will you be miraculously content then? Once you’ve proved yourself?’
It was a valid question. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
Roul exhaled and brushed the back of his hand over his clean-shaven jaw. ‘There are no female defenders. And even if there were, you couldn’t do the job. You going to put on a uniform and hang merchants from the wall?’
‘No.’
He began walking, and she followed him.
‘I thought your uncle was busy finding you a husband,’ he said when she fell into step with him.
‘He is. He wants me to marry some widowed bootmaker in the merchant borough.’
Roul squinted in her direction. ‘At least you would be in the merchant borough. You always say you don’t belong among the noble.’
She let out a breath. ‘I’d quite like to live somewhere quieter, more reclusive.’ She gestured behind them to the clearing by the creek where they had stood moments earlier. ‘I’ve daydreamed about living right there.’
He stopped walking and looked back, eyebrows drawn together. ‘You want to live in a creek?’
‘Notinthe creek.’ She pointed. ‘I’d build a house in that spot right there. When the sun returns, it’ll be drenched in sunlight each morning. At night, I would have owls and insects for company.’
His eyes returned to her, his expression softer now, something resembling pity in his eyes.
Colour filled her cheeks. ‘Perhaps I’ll suggest it to the bootmaker.’
He searched her face for the longest time, then resumed walking without saying another word.
She jogged to catch up to him. ‘But before I settle for my reclusive existence, I’d quite like to see what’s outside Chadora’s walls first.’
He sighed. ‘Of course you would.’
‘Don’t you ever get restless inside these walls?’
‘I’ve certainly noticed that you do.’
He was an expert at deflecting personal questions.
Eda looked up at the heavy clouds. ‘Sometimes I imagine going over the wall or boarding a ship to Ireland.’
He stopped walking and turned to her, visibly agitated. ‘What for? To witness more suffering?’
‘They’re just thoughts. I’m allowed to be curious about the world. Or is that a hangable offence now too?’
He ran a hand over his crop of black hair. ‘Are they just thoughts though? You’re always testing boundaries and trying to prove yourself in some way. You seem to think you have to fight men twice your size, scale a wall, or board a ship—’
‘I don’thaveto do any of those things.’ She searched his eyes. ‘Did you hear the part where I said Iwantto?’
‘You only want to because you’re not allowed to. That’s how your brain works. You hear the word “no” and off you go on one of your little tangents.’ He took a step back from her. ‘You’ve not even met the bootmaker, but already you don’t want to marry him because someone is telling you to. You are your own worst enemy.’
That stung. ‘My own worst enemy? For not wanting to marry a stranger whom my uncle has selected?’
He wet his lips and looked away.
