Oh, but what am I to make of him?
He tells me I’m his equal and that I don’t need his permission to act. But he warns me about asking for help, assuring me any request for assistance will lead to pain.
He fights to keep me alive, rubs warmth back into my feet, and creates a cloak that will protect me from the cold. Only to tell me that I must make myself as cold as he is.
He maintains he’s heartless, and he proved it.
And while there’s a part of me that wants to rail and scream at him for the way he cut Antony down…
Antony would have killed him, too.
Generations of enmity leading to death.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I accept that it’s impossible to reconcile any of it. I can’t accept Antony’s death. But I can’t hate Stellen for it, either.
Somehow, I need to discover what lies deeper than Stellen’s heart. I need to find out what lives at the soul of him.
I swipe at my tears and carefully pull my mitten over my bare hand without upsetting Stellen’s position. Then I adjust my hood, pulling it up behind my head, creating a cushion against the rough surface.
The stone isn’t comfortable, but I’m certain I’ll manage to sleep. Many were the nights my father and I slept wherever we could. Not only when we were on the run. Each time we settled at a new village, we had to establish ourselves again. We rarely had any coin to pay for shelter, and even if we did, Father would use that money for food.
My calluses feel tight against my palms within the mittens.
Even when my father and I settled in a new village, it still felt like we were running.
Now, I find myself studying the mist around the three rockpools.
Logically, I should probably consider not the warnings Stellen gave me, but the ones he didn’t.
Not once did he warn me against trying to leave.
A complete opposite to Antony, who wrapped a ruby circlet around my wrist and chained me to him the first chance he had. And that was even after I told him I would submit to him.
Stellen hasn’t breathed a word about keeping me captive.
I haven’t made a single promise not to leave.
“Your heartbeats are heavy.”
Stellen’s ragged whisper makes me jump.
Taking a deep breath to settle myself, I consider him carefully. Forehead still clammy. Eyes still closed. Icy chest heavy where he lies against me.
“You can hear my heart?”
“I hear…the Alak-Teah scuffling in the far distance,” he mumbles. “I hear…the snowstorm tearing at the world outside this forest. I hear the shifts in your breathing and the…hmm…small changes when your heart speeds up…and even when your lips purse because you’re perplexed…”
I try to relax my mouth.
“Your current situation is untenable,” he murmurs while his eyes remain closed, his breathing more labored as he continues speaking. “Instinct must be telling you to leave while you can. Logic will warn you that the environment can kill you. There’s no food in this forest—even if you thought you could hide in it.
“Outside, you face endless snow and again, no food. Worse, no fire to melt ice into water. Dehydration is a deadly risk across this frozen land stretching for miles. If, somehow, you make it back to the border, you will find the Iron Kingdom in turmoil. A new power struggle between Galla Vividari and whichever of her children is foolish enough toclaim the throne. If you head north into the far wilds, you will come upon bloodthirsty beasts who will hunt you for sport.”
Antony warned me of malevolent beings that live in the northern wilds. He said they’re as feral as beasts but have the intelligence of fae. I’m certain he wasn’t referring to the Alak-Teah.
“That’s assuming you make it past any Frost Fae you might encounter.” Stellen speaks at a mumble now. “They will kill you on sight and…ask questions…later…if they even…bother…”
He doesn’t have to say more about the threats I’ll face if I leave. They’re too many.
