His mouth curved. And damn it, she couldn’t ignore how her pulse spiked.
Lord Daworth swirled his drink again. “Wouldn’t that be reason enough for a visit, to find out?”
An ache stirred in her chest. To find that place from her dream, the stone circles and reeds against a pale sky. Trisha’s fingers balled into fists. She would be stupid enough to trust this lord. Around them, his soldiers stood, silent shadows guarding them from just out of reach.
“I’m not sure, my lord,” she said bluntly. “You don’t strike me as someone for ballads of forbidden love.”
Daworth tilted his head, silence holding. She resisted the impulse to lick her lip as shadows pooled around his eyes.
“You may be surprised,” he said in a velvety voice.
Her fingertips pressed against her thighs.
He leaned back, tone cool, as if nothing had sparked between them mere seconds ago.
“I’ll be leaving at first light. Traveling with me would offer you much protection and knowledge. A rare combination, wouldn’t you agree?”
“That is very… generous of you,” she muttered.
“I’m a generous man.”
A steadying breath to buy her time. He already knew that they were traveling in the same direction. “I’m heading north, but I’m unsure how far.”
“Then join me for as long as the road takes us.”
She didn’t know him, nor his motives. “And what do you expect of me, my lord?”
“Whatever you may have heard of my people, we don’t ravageeveryvillage,” he said. “But my people appreciate music, Bard an Tilia. And perhaps I can convince you to follow me a little farther. To Eichlandt.”
Isdet wasn’t far. She could learn more in two days. “We shall see.”
He lifted the cup to meet his lips. “First light, Bard an Tilia. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Trisha blinked before her feet obeyed the command. Slowly, she stood. She had wanted to avoid further questions, but still, the dismissal stung. She pushed the feeling away. This was better. Safer.
Trisha cleared her throat. “Until tomorrow, my lord.” She inclined her head and turned.
His gaze heated her nape, but she didn’t dare look back. Only when the smoke had swallowed the table did she let herself breathe. Trisha pressed a palm to her forehead. She was a fool. One day, curiosity would be her ruination.
One of the inn’s guests left a trace of ale, garlic, and onion in his wake, and Trisha’s stomach grumbled. She’d abandoned Dapple in a hurry. Bracing herself against the elements, she stepped outside to find the stables where the horses neighed in their cramped stalls. The humid air reeked of dung and wet fur and leather.
Dapple greeted her with a loving snort and nudged at her, eager for sweets.
“We’ll leave early. Behave, and they might have treats to share,” she murmured, stroking his muzzle.
Across the aisle, a bay stallion kicked violently, eyes wide, baring its teeth. Trisha shuddered.
Was it too late to back out? Had she made a mistake by agreeing to ride with Lord Daworth? If that even was his realname. He’d been too deliberate, and the way he’d resisted her song.
Turning back to Dapple, she whispered, “We’ll go no further than Isdet. Promise.”Two or three days’ ride.
And perhaps…
She refused to finish that thought. Over her head, the clouds were clearing away, the night sky’s pinholes glimpsing beneath them—silent and quiet, a mere impression from the place of her childhood. Cooling her lungs, she let in a big breath of damp air before spinning around to march back inside.
2
A groupof traveling merchants invited her to their table.
