“Not at all. I checked it this morning and wanted to put a fresh bandage over it.” She gives me a smile, then sets the basket on thetable in the kitchen and begins unwrapping. “I know you got plenty of food from ourking”—that disdainful tone again—“but I needed to make bread today, so I made an extra two loaves for you.” Her cheeks turn a little pink. “A bit of an apology for shooting at you yesterday.”
“You didn’t have to do that! You already helped us unload.”
“Well.” She smiles. “I did.” She hesitates. “I was also going to ask if you still planned to take the wagon back into the city.”
I glance at the hallway. “Erik and I were going to go back to see about getting a goat,” I say. “But I don’t know if he feels rested enough for that.”
I tried not to let any worry into my voice, but she frowns anyway. “Is he unwell?”
“He was injured on the journey here. He’s been trying to hide it, but I know it pains him.”
Olive nods. “I thought he was moving stiffly last night.” Her voice drops. “A bad injury? You sound worried.”
Her brown eyes stare into mine, and I study her across the table. We’ve only just met her, and despite how things turned out, shewasshooting at us in the woods. But I keep thinking about the way she warned me about Rian. The way she keeps sayingour king.
I don’t know how much Erik would want me to say, but I sense that any admission of his injury would make him unhappy.
“It could have been a lot worse,” I finally say, and I can read in her eyes that she knows I’m hedging. Between us, the loaves have been unwrapped, and they smell heavenly. “I’ll get a knife. I’m sure he’ll be hungry.”
Ellmo’s little voice comes from the next room. “I know I’m hungry, Mama!”
I laugh under my breath. “So we’re feeding both the boys.”
“We can all eat if you like,” says Olive. She unwraps the rest of the cloth and pulls out a roll of cheese. “I brought cheese, too.”
While I start to slice the loaves, she looks around the small kitchen, and her eyes light up a little. “Do you have matches for the stove? We could toast the bread.” Her eyebrows go up. “And are those fresh tomatoes?Our kingcertainly does want your favor.”
I find the small box of matches and light the stove, setting a cast-iron pan above the flame. “Well, he’s not getting it.”
She smiles. “I like you.”
I like her, too. She has an easy manner that’s hard to ignore.
Or maybe I just like that Rian seems to irritate her as much as he irritates me.
Erik’s voice rumbles from the hallway. “That puzzle is far too hard for a five-year-old.”
“I’m seven!” Ellmo cries.
Olive rolls her eyes and reaches for the small jar of lard on the counter. “Don’t hold it against me, but I haven’t decided about your husband yet.”
I nearly knock the pan right off the stove. “Mywhat?”
She looks at me in surprise. “Oh. I’m sorry. I assumed you were married.”
“No! We’re—we’re—”
I have no idea how to finish that.Friendswould be true, but still feels awkward.
Olive gives me a look. “But you’re a couple, yes? You’re sharing a house.” She raises an eyebrow. “It sounded like you were in the bedroom together.”
My cheeks surge with heat. “What? No! I—it’s—”
Erik chooses that moment to walk into the kitchen in nothing but his trousers, with his tunic in one hand. He must have shaved,because his face is a little damp, a few droplets still clinging to his chest. We’ve been sharing the house, and I’ve changed his bandage several times now, so it’s not like I haven’t caught a glimpse of him without a shirt, but I’m suddenly aware of . . . ?of what this looks like. Not to mention the cords of muscle down his arms. The sheer breadth of his shoulders.
“Why are you both staring at me?” he says.
I jerk my eyes away and turn back toward the stove—but Olive jerkshergaze in the opposite direction and nearly walks right into me with the knife in her hand. I all but fall into the stove. The pan rattles heavily.
