She opens the leather pack, brows knitting together.
“You went through my things.”
“I had to.”
“And here I thought I had a shred of dignity left. Silly me.” She laughs, but it’s colder than the snow.
I arch a brow. “Happy to strip that from you too, if you like.”
Mayah glares at me, fingers twitching as if she wants to slap me again. I’d like to see her try.
She refuses to change with me here, so I turn and take a few steps away to appease her, trying desperately to think about anything except her naked behind the tree.
Rebels. Faramir’s stupid face. The stench of burning flesh.
Mother.
When she finally returns, I ask, “Are we going to be civil?”
“Depends. Are you going to be an ass?” She flings her bundled clothes at my feet. “What do we do now, oh great commander?”
Her tone grates at me, but it’s expected. I did tie her up, after all.
“All my men are dead. The rebels knew exactly where we were and how many soldiers I had.”
“You don’t still thinkIhad something to do with that, do you?”
A beat.
“No. I believe you.”
“Finally. Some progress.” She rolls her eyes. “We’re not too far from the palace. We can make it back within a day, regroup, get supplies—”
“We’re not going back to the palace.”
She blinks slowly. “Excuse me?”
“You expect me to walk into the Tundrayni capital with no soldiers? They’ll impale me with ice spears before I reach the gate.”
“You keep forgetting—there’s a ceasefire in place. That only—”
“—Ihave broken,” I interject. I clench my jaw, irritation crackling inside me. She gets under my skin so easily. “So you’vereminded me.Several times. The ceasefire is shaky enough as it is. The moment I show up alone, it’ll be forgotten.”
“Fine. Do what you want. I’ll go back myself.”
“And if the rebels catch you?”
“That’s not your problem.”
“You’re betrothed to my brother. Youaremy problem.”
“Oh,nowyou remember?” she shoots back, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You seemed to forget that little fact when you tied me up and manhandled me.”
I flinch, a fresh wave of guilt battering me. My gaze drops to her bruised wrists.
“Look,” I say quietly. “It’s dangerous out there. I can’t let you go alone. Believe it or not, I don’t actually want you harmed.” She scoffs, but I press on. “And if anything happens to you, your father could blame me and attack Arbinj.” It isn’t my main motivator, but it’s something she might actually believe.
“What do you propose, then? You won’t go with me. You won’t let me go alone. Should we just pitch a tent and freeze to death?”
