Now that really made him want to beat Masakage into shoe leather. “And you didn’t think it pertinent to tell me?”
“Given that you wanted to keep her with us, I thought you knew and intended to keep watch on her.”
“You’re such an arse.”
Masakage tsked, then held his hand out and waved over Gisela who instantly dried off. Afterward, he moved to Xaydin. “Say you’re sorry.”
Scoffing, Xaydin shook his head. He wasn’t about to offer an insincere apology. “I’d rather stay wet.”
“Suffer then. Sopping suits you.”
“Fuck you.”
Masakage took a seat next to Gisela. “He really is a dreadful beast. But I do so enjoy his rages.”
“You’re not quite right, are you?” Gisela asked.
“Too much time spent with your mother. How you ended up so normal makes me wonder about your father.”
She scowled at his words. “You don’t know?”
He shook his head. “That is shrouded. Not sure why, but by your current form I’m guessing he was two-legged.”
She fell instantly silent.
“Or was he?” Masakage asked.
Gisela wasn’t about to tell him anything regarding her paternal heritage. It was something that infuriated her more than anything else. “Does it matter?”
That caused Xaydin to focus his penetrating glare on her. “Shape shifter?”
The thing he hated most.
Xaydin cursed under his breath. “A fucking shape shifter! No wonder you didn’t have a horse.” He glanced to Masakage. “Shedidn’t need one because she can be one. No wonder horses don’t like her. Did you know about this?”
“I suspected.”
“And said nothing?”
Masakage held his hands up in surrender. “Didn’t know how you’d react to the news, as your overreaction right now is proving. Besides, with those skills, she could come in handy on your quest.”
Xaydin growled in response.
Gisela swallowed hard. “If it makes you feel better, your hatred of me is only surpassed by my mother’s.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Why would that make me feel better?”
She shrugged. “Misery loves company. Or so I’m told.”
Shaking his head, Xaydin sighed heavily. She was an Outlaw, same as them—betrayed and tortured. Broken by life. Yet she still clung to the mother who’d cruelly raised her.
He’d never understand creatures like Gisela. But then who was he to judge? He allowed his uncle to live, even though he should plunge a dagger through the bastard’s head. Life was a struggle for everyone, and it spared no one from pain and grief. Didn’t matter if they were princes or beggars.
Tragedy came. Sometimes he thought it took a particular sense of pleasure from going after those who were envied. Like a kind of tulpa. So many wished ill on those they thought had it better that it manifested a particular kind of harm for them. One summoned by others for no reason other than petty jealousy where they thought someone had it easier or better.
But that wasn’t how life worked. Everyone had their problems no matter how enviable their situation might appear on the surface.
It was a lesson too few learned. Because that jealousy fostered all types of evil.
