“Grayson wants me alive? He has a funny way of showing it. I nearly died in the pit.”
I tightened my hold on her, drawing her closer to my chest. “How did you survive?”
She didn’t fight against my hold, but she didn’t relax. Tree trunks had more give than Haven. “My secrets are my own.”
“Even when they may put you in danger?”
“Even then.”
“I’m guessing it has something to do with the way you called a sword for the fight with the wyvern.”
She remained mum.
Keeping her safe was paramount. But I’d watched her enough to know that more questions would get me nowhere. She was stubborn and independent and incredibly vexing. “Where did you learn to fight?”
“Grandmother hired tutors.”
Her easy answer came as a surprise. “Tutors in Grimswood?”
“Grandmother has the sight, and whenever she caught a glimpse of my future, I was fighting. She made sure I knew how. I’m goodwith a sword. Great with a dagger. Terrible at aiming spears.”
“What else did you learn?”
“Languages. History. Politics. Etiquette.”
“Etiquette?” I imagined Haven in a gown at a state dinner. She’d look beautiful, but she’d call someone—most likely someone of importance—an asshole. The corner of my mouth twitched.
“That amuses you?” She sounded softer, almost vulnerable. As if I’d hurt her feelings. “She swore I’d need it someday.”
“Have you?”
“Not yet.”
We rode without saying more. The clop of hooves filled the silence between us, punctuated by the occasional whinny from one of the horses. Above us, a hawk circled, riding the wind.
I liked silence. We were old friends. Until now. Now it itched. I said the first thing that came to mind. “Tell me about your family.”
“Tell me about yours.” Vexing. So very vexing.
“You first,” I insisted.
“You met her.”
“Where are your parents?”
She twisted in the saddle and searched my face. She must have liked what she saw, because she answered me. “My mother was taken to the front when I was a baby. I never met my father. I don’t even know who he is.” Her expression was flat. These were old wounds, long since scarred over. “You?”
“My parents died when I was young.” The words came without inflection, practiced. I’d learned long ago to strip emotion from facts. Silence stretched between us, filled only by the steady rhythm of hooves on packed earth. I should have stopped there. Should have redirected the conversation. Instead, something about her quiet attention loosened my tongue. “Istill miss them.” The words slipped out, unbidden and too revealing.
“I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere.
My uncle had murdered them. Only luck had saved me. I’d accepted a last-minute invitation to spend a few days with Grayson’s family. On the night the assassin killed my family, I was tucked safely in my friend’s guest room.
“There are thousands of orphans in Grimswood.” Her voice was soft, almost gentle. “I was lucky. I had my grandmother.”
Her grandmother was terrifying. Who taught a girl to fight? Women were to be protected. I winced. We’d failed abysmally in protecting Haven. My chest tightened with the heavy weight of our failure. Since we’d ridden out, Haven had proved she could protect herself better than most men I knew. She’d also protected us. She’d saved our lives. We owed her.
“What are you two whispering about?” Flynn, who’d slowed his horse so he could ride next to us, stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.
