We moved.
The sun rose.Khal kept up a punishing pace, which made sense; Tyralk was what was important right now, and he had no great urge to think of my welfare. I kept up as best I could, andhe'd pause when I got too far behind. The sun was almost at its zenith when I stopped him. “Khal.” I took the chance to lean against an oak. He didn’t turn around, just stopped, one leg up on a fallen log. “I can’t keep up like this. We can eat while we walk, but I need to eat.”
He pulled the pack off his back. I climbed closer through the brush, avoiding the ones that might tear this skirt. I needed the peasant’s dress to last. His hand slipped a little as he unwrapped the oil cloth around the rations, pulled out to break apart another square of cricket-meal bread.
It might be our last day together, depending on the distance to Rowton. There was a bitter sweetness in that. Maybe it was alright to still enjoy seeing his hands, even as they faltered with rage earned by me.
Of all the people I could have made angry, Khal was perhaps the gentlest. Maybe my fear was never justified. Maybe I could have made him angry sooner. “I would eat the jerky,” I said.
His movement stopped. “What?”
“I would eat the meat,” I said quietly. “I trust…that you don’t eat people.”
He hesitated, pulled free a few of the strips. I would have felt bad for eating his food, but I’d be gone soon. He wouldn’t run out, without me there. I bit into the meat, over-salted, greasy.
He was wrapping it back up.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
He finished wrapping it, shoved it back in the pack. “No. I don’t think I can right now.”
“You need to be at your best.” It was a foolish argument. None of this bludgeoning through the woods was hard for him.
“I’ve gone longer without. I won’t waste food I would throw up.”
My own stomach clenched. What would Thea say? “Did you want to talk about it?”
A breath escaped him. “We can talk later.”
There would be no later. I nodded. He pulled the pack back on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For hurting you.”
He wheeled on me. There was so much feeling in his face I almost stepped back, away. “What are you talking about?” he hissed. “Rowena, are you trying to drive home that you’re mad? Are you torturing me? What is this?”
I stepped back. There was a tree behind me. “You shouldn’t have been lied to. This happened to you, too?—"
“To me too?” His voice was loathing, disgust. “I met you with rope burns on your wrists. You spoke bravely, and I never stopped to think that brave people can have knives to their backs. I wanted to believe you. I wanted you to be real. And I did not dig further.” He raked his hand through his hair, agony in his face. “I might as well have been dragging you to my bed with a knife.”
I stood against the tree, still.
“This did not happen to both of us, because I didn’tforceboth of us, Rowena, I forced you."
My voice came out as a whisper. “That's not what happened. You took…what was yours."
"What was mine?" He hissed through his teeth. "You're a woman, Rowena, not a spare blade."
I pressed back against the oak trunk. "I was your wife.”
"That's not how this works." He looked so angry. “You teach a child two years old not to hurt an animal, not to take food out of someone’s hands or bite. And you think that goes away if I get stronger? We’re not animals. I’m not…supposed to be…something that hurts you.” He slid down against the tree, his head in his hands. I wanted to move closer. I wanted to comfort him. And maybe that only invited his scorn, but I knew Khal would not hurt me. And I knew he deserved my courage, even when I merited his hate.
I crept forward, lowered to a crouch by his feet. “When Iagreed to take Thea’s place, I knew what that entailed. I knew…that included your bed.” He was already shaking his head. I continued. “You are not the monster here. You didn’t make me?—"
“But youweremade to.” He looked up at me. His face was revulsion. “I did that. I let that happen. I wasn’t threatening your sister, but I might as well have been. And you…you didn’t know that you were safe." His voice cracked. "I let my own hubris assume I knew what I was doing, that we both knew what we were doing, what we haddecided.” He flinched away. “God, no wonder you were so still. I just thought…I thought you were only disappointed with me. I thought I could get better.” I couldn’t tell if the sound he made was a sob or a laugh, only that it hurt.
I was shaking my head. “You can’t take the blame for this.” I touched his hand. "You were lied to. I…helped him lie to you.”
“You lied to an enemy,” he whispered. “You lied to someone who would harm your sister. And I swore I’d keep you safe and then Iimmediatelyhurt you.”
