“Thought it was the other way around, sir,” she gritted out.
He smirked. “Ah, there she is.”
There was something that caught her eye about his half smile. She had the urge to see what a full-fledged grin or even a laugh looked like on him, but he hadn’t done either, not since they had met. The wish was stupid anyways.
“Soren,” he ordered. “Focus.”
She blinked, her face flushing crimson when she realized she had been staring at him. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Are you finally going to teach me how to fight?”
He snorted. “Commander Eton wants you out there on the battlefield in two weeks’ time. Our time here is better spent getting you well-acquainted with Thessilnn and your magic.”
“And how are you going to help me on either of those fronts?”
“In another life, I was a scribe’s apprentice,” he replied smoothly. “My master specialized in the history of the gods as well as magic manifesting in mortals.”
“I see,” she said slowly. His words felt like a lie, and she entirely wasn’t sure why. “And what about Thessa?”
He raised a brow. “She lets you call her that?”
Soren frowned. “I think she prefers it.”
“She most definitely does not,” Vane said, his brow creased. “She must… Well, she must really like you.”
Soren shrugged. “I can already speak with her, which isn’t normal, evidently.”
“Mm.” Vane wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was flipping the dagger around in his hand, his eyes wandering to the horizon where the mountains met the sky. The strong column of his throat worked, and he almost seemed to be collecting himself.
“It’s time for the midday meal,” she said, chewing on her lip.
His chest expanded under the leather armor. “You won’t be joining the other riders, not for the rest of your training.”
“For my safety or theirs?”
Vane swept past her, and with little choice, she followed him. She caught him muttering, “Can it not be both?”
She did not reply, instead falling silent as he led her away from camp to the edge of the field, where Thessa awaited them.
Soren glanced at the dragon. “What about the meal?—”
Vane threw another bar at her, and she shut her mouth as she took it, sighing internally. The bars were bland at best, if not bitter.
“Enjoy it,” Vane said, walking towards Thessa and undoubtedly catching on to her disappointment. “Your rationsout there in the true war camps will be few and far between and not always as hearty as this.”
Soren resisted the childish urge to scream at the sky. She had not asked for any of this, had not even wanted to go with Princess Cion to the Choosing ceremony in the first place.
I weep for you.
Soren looked up at Thessa—the dragon would be raising her eyebrows if she had them, though her attention quickly shifted to Vane.
Please don’t burn him to a crisp,Soren thought.Or do, but then I might be killed too.
Thessa made a chuffing sound, and Vane reached out a hand.
“I wouldn’t?—”
But Soren shut her mouth as Thessa nuzzled against Vane’s hand, her eyes shutting.
“Unfortunately for you and your plans, Thessilnn and I are previously acquainted. It would take a lot for her to kill me,” Vane said.
