My heart pounded. This was really embarrassing. I should have noticed the mud sooner and steered around it. I’d spent years building up the strength and endurance to haul my wagon around for weeks on end. I didn’t much like the idea of asking a random stranger on the road to help me.
He stepped around the corner. Nearly as tall as the wagon, he towered over me. His broad shoulders strained the black linen tunic he wore, the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone to reveal a muscular chest. Crimson hair hung down to his shoulders, curling with wild abandon. His eyes were the color of fire, widening just slightly when he caught a glimpse of me.
I probably wasn’t what he’d been expecting.
And the feeling was mutual. He had sharply-tipped ears, but he smelled nothing like an elf with his odd mixture of musk, spice, and magic. Most residents of Hearthaven were folk—elves, dwarves, pixies, fire demons, and shadow demons—but he was something else, I was sure of it. I couldn’t help but notice his jawline. It was like someone had taken a chisel and carved him from stone.
Yes, I’d definitely never seen him before, and he certainly wasn’t from Wyndale. I would have remembered him.
It was then I realized his mouth was moving. He stopped talking, then cocked his head.
I blinked, my cheeks heating. “I’m sorry?”
The left side of his lips tilted up in a half-smile—or a smirk. “I asked if you’re all right. Do you need to sit down? You look a bit flushed.”
2
LILIA
“No.” I dusted off my trousers. “I’m quite all right, thank you.”
His eyes drifted down the length of me, snagging on my hips, before moving on to the mud-drenched wheel. “Ah. Looks like a pothole got you. Should be easy enough to pull your wagon out of there, though. Move aside.”
“I don’t need your help.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Truth was, if he didn’t help me, I’d have to camp here for the night. That was well and good, but what about tomorrow? And the next day? Eventually, someone else might come along the road, but how long would that take? I only had a month to reach Riverwold for the festival, and it was a long journey from here. There was just something…offabout this man. The way his eyes seemed to dance annoyed me. Internally, he was laughing at me, I could tell. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right.
He folded his massive arms. “No, of course you don’t need help. You were just stopping here in the middle of the road to—”
“To camp,” I cut in. “It’s dark now. Time to have dinner and get some sleep.”
He looked pointedly at my slanted wagon. “I normally like to camp on thesideof the road, rather than smack dab in the middle of it.”
“Well, you’re certainly welcome to do what you like.” I shrugged off his words and moved to my supplies, hastily tugging out my bedroll. I had no plans to actually sleep on the ground, but I hoped this would give him the hint to move on. But he just remained where he was, watching me. Frowning, I tossed my bedroll onto the ground, then shoved aside the burlap flap of my front compartment to grab my canteen of water.
My wagon suddenly jerked forward.
I stumbled back. The crimson-haired man had his beefy hands on the yokes. He winked, releasing the wagon and pointing at the wheel, now free from the muddy pothole.
The blood rushed into my cheeks. “Why did you do that?”
He arched a brow. “You’re welcome.”
He dusted off his hands and left me where I was, returning to his own wagon that he’d parked behind mine. I eyed his broad back and the hair that curled across his neck. He climbed into the back of his wagon without saying another word.
I sighed, slumping against the wooden side of the only house I’d ever called home. What was I doing? The stranger had only been trying to help me. And how had I repaid him? Shaking my head, I wandered over to his wagon. It was smaller than mine, though the oak sides gleamed like they’d just been polished. The panels weren’t faded by wind and rain like mine was. I ran my hand along the side of it. Smooth, too.Wonder what kind of goods he sells.
Wonder where he’s traveling to sell them, too.
There were a few merchants who travelled throughout the Isles, but I’d met all of them. Or at least I’d thought I had. Most of them dealt in cloth, jewellery, shoes, and scented soaps or perfumes. None of those items seemed to fit this man. In fact, if I were to guess, I’d assume he hocked weapons, but…surely not.
I knocked on the side of the wagon. His head poked out the back a second later. Laughter still danced in his eyes, and I fought back a huff of annoyance.
“Sorry. I should have thanked you for pulling my wagon out of the mud,” I said. “I’m just not used to asking for help.”
“That’s quite all right,” he drawled, and then he vanished into his wagon again, effectively dismissing me.
I frowned. “I really am going to camp here.”
