“Why?” Mr. Adams asked.
“He was a child thief,” Braya informed him.
“Oh,” Adams said on a ghostly whisper.
“Come now,” Torin said, sounding impatient, “there is no reason to grow solemn and gloomy over things that canna—ot.” He coughed into his head. “Cannot be changed. We have a long way to ride. At least a day and a half. Let us not drag it out to feel like an eternity.”
Braya agreed. Torin needed to do things that made him laugh once in a while. “The horses are well rested. Let us race them!”
He laughed then leaned over Avalon’s wide neck and stroked her hoary mane. “Your horses would be shamed.”
“Ha!” she shouted with a short laugh then grimaced at the pain from her bruised jaw. “If she is as fast as you are arrogant, then no doubt you are correct. But let us give it a go.” She turned to Mr. Adams with a bright smile, refusing to let pain take her joy. “How about it, Mr. Adams? Are you with us?”
He nodded then flicked his horse’s reins.
“I will give you both a head start,” Torin called out.
Braya shook her head and rode closer to Mr. Adams. “Do not push your mount until the arrogant bastard catches up.”
They both kept a slow pace and waited for him to finally move his arse and go after them. “You are going slow on purpose,” he laughed, reaching them.
“Aye,” she admitted. “I wanted to tell you that you need not play these silly games. I’m going to win. In fact, I will even reach Rothbury before you.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“Because if I do not win, you will take my hand in marriage as you told my father you would.”
His laughter faded. “So you are my prize?”
She shook her head, keeping her horse at a slow pace. “Your responsibility. A saint or a shrew, depending on you. But yours if I lose.”
He looked so undecided that, for a moment, she felt insulted. He wouldn’t let her lose. “And if you win?” he finally asked quietly.
“If I win, you can forget I ever existed and go on with your life without me.”
She met his steady green gaze head on and tilted her chin. She would be strong. She would—
He took off with a great heave from Avalon that left Braya and Adams in a cloud of dust. Braya pushed Archer hard, but not too hard. She knew Torin wouldn’t let her lose. She wanted to know what he truly felt about her. Was there anything between them that could become something bigger? Or was he just a kind, merciless knight who would do the same for anyone?
She thought for certain he would slow Avalon and let her win, but he raced with her and Mr. Adams across the valley and over Hadrian’s Wall and laughed when she looked as if she might catch up.
She wished she had answers but she didn’t really care about them right now. The wind whipping through her hair was fragranced with heather and other wildflowers. The sun was warm and full on her face. She felt free of the confines of duty, and raiding, and obeying. She felt seen, and heard. Finally.
She was with Torin. She liked being with him. She saw something in his eyes at times like innocence and purity. She thought it was perhaps so clear to see because it showed in the darkness that captured the rest of him. Could she get through? Could anyone? She thought he felt something for her. Perhaps he didn’t want to, or he was afraid to. She didn’t care. She wanted him in her life. If she had to steal his heart right out of those shadows, she would. She would appeal to the light and force him to decide.
But later.
She didn’t care if Avalon seemed to fly over fields and flowers, or if Torin beat her to their destination, or if Adams beat poor Archer, too. She closed her eyes for a moment and let herself fly.
They stopped in a small tavern in the village of Gilsland for drinks for them and their horses. They didn’t have to open their rations her mother had packed because Torin had coins and used them to buy them food.
“You beat me, my lord,” Braya said playfully while she ate small bites. “You know what that means.”
“No,” he objected. “You said you must reach Rothbury first. That is the end of the race.”
“No,” she said after a moment. “Let us make it whoever enters Lord Rothbury’s home first and then you will tell me if you want to marry me or forget me.”
She stood up and left the table, and Torin and Mr. Adams looked after her.
Her smile faded as she went. What if Torin chose neither? What then?
