My choice of clothing was also questionable.
My nightgown was sullied and ripped, exposing my bruised knees. The temperature was near freezing, and I visibly shook. The only fabric keeping me from falling victim to the elements was my lined overcoat.
“Stop!” my captor shouted.
The horse jerked to a halt, and I barely caught myself before pitching forward.
The cold air hit, making my limbs feel even heavier. Before I could take a full breath, my captor was dismounting.
He walked over to another horse carrying several satchels. Then he dug around and pulled out a pair of boots and two articles of clothing. When he walked back to our horse, he lifted me up and onto the Ground without warning.
“Here,” he said, handing me the clothes. “Change. Before you freeze to death.”
“I can’t. My hands—”
Steel flashed. He cut the rope, holding the last fiber between his fingers. His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t run.”
“I won’t.”
The rope fell, and I unwrapped the bundle: a boy’s tunic, black trousers, boots. Worn, but intact.
“Where did you get these?”
“Not everyone survives the road.”
The breath caught in my throat. “You stripped a corpse.”
I shoved the items back into the Veiler’s arms, looking at my hands as if they were plagued with the smell and feel of death. I brushed my hands on my nightgown, trying to rid myself of that stench.
“He wasn’t using them.” He then shrugged as if it were nothing. “It’s only going to get colder where we’re going.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just put the clothes on.”
I grabbed the clothes from the Veiler’s hands, letting my fingers rub the thick fabric. Disgust curdled in my stomach, but the cold bit harder.
“Turn around,” I snapped.
“No chance. You’d bolt.”
“I said I won’t run.”
“And I said I don’t trust you.” His smirk was icy, and it made my skin crawl.
I huffed because he was right. If I wanted information on Willam, I needed to survive long enough to find it.
I turned my back, stripping fast, one arm shielding my chest as I snatched the tunic from his lazy hand. His silence pressed on me heavier than his eyes.
The clothes fit well enough. The boots blessedly so.
It’s one thing to wear slightly baggy or tight clothing, and quite another to trudge around in uncomfortable, ill-fitting footwear. That could cause blisters, and blisters pop and become infected.
“Are you done?” he asked impatiently. “I want to reach the prairie by evening.”
“When will we stop to rest?”
