Obviously overhearing, Raewyn came over and put a hand on her father’s arm.
“Papa, are you okay? Is your back bothering you?”
“No, hale and hearty as a youth, I am,” he said.
She didn’t look convinced. “You have to tell me if the pain is coming back. It’s possible Sorcha might have—”
Wyll cut her off. “I said I’m fine. Stop coddling me, girl.”
She blinked several times at his harsh tone but said, “Very well.”
Wandering over to Cimmerian, she stroked his head and neck.
Just like Dargan, he didn’t merely tolerate her touch, he seemed to revel in it. He even nuzzled her with his nose in a way I’d seen him do with no one but me.
“You have a way with horses,” I said softly.
Raewyn jumped, apparently not realizing I’d followed her and was standing behind her.
“I don’t know about that, but I do like them,” she said. “Why did you change mounts? Was Dargan tired?”
I nodded, stepping over to stroke Cimmerian’s side.
“He was, and he deserves a long rest after that ride of ours. This guy here was fresh and ready to go.”
“He’s beautiful. They both are,” she said, directing her comments and her gaze to the horse instead of me.
“And they both seem to have an affinity for you,” I commented.
It made sense—they were brothers.
“I’ve never seen such fine horses,” Raewyn said. “What breed are they—if that’s the right word?”
“They’re Friesians. Stallions. I’m a fan of horses in general, but Friesians are my favorite because of their intelligence and calm demeanor. They’re a dream to train. I’ve raised both of mine since they were foals.”
“It’s funny to think of you having pets,” Raewyn mused, finally sliding her eyes over to me.
“Funny? Why?”
“Well I always saw you as so foreboding and brutish. With your horses, you’re almost… tender.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide as if she was afraid she might have offended me.
I smiled down at her and murmured, “I can be gentle when I want to be.”
Raewyn took a sudden breath and turned away, walking quickly toward the stream. I trailed after her and dipped my canteen in, refilling it and offering it to her.
“No thank you. I’m not thirsty,” she said.
Then she began babbling in a way I’d never seen her do.
“We have a pet goat. Her name is Daisy. She’s a little love, but we had to leave her behind, unfortunately. I’m not worried about her. Katricia—she’s my friend—will take care of her I know, and Daisy will be very helpful to them. Her milk makes the most delicious cheese. Well, perhaps not as delicious as the cheeses in the palace. Stellon brought me some every day, and I had no idea there were so many kinds—soft cheeses, hard cheeses, mild and sharp and…”
She’d hardly stopped to take a breath. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I turned her to face me.
“Raewyn, look at me.”
Finally she stopped talking, and her eyes came up to meet mine.
