“I’m not,” he immediately defended himself, not stopping to think whether it was true. He was not scared of her at the moment, at least. “Besides, what does that have to do with anything?”
Her expression said he was stupid for not knowing the answer to his own question.
He pulled his hands away from the fire and braced them around his crossed knees. He didn’t want to think about whether his fear of her meant anything, but now that she’d posed the question, he had to know.
He stared into the soft flames, biting his lips together between his teeth. “My fear of you is justified,” he said, still feeling defensive. “You have a powerful magic that hurts and kills.” Just saying the words out loud reminded Erich whom he was speaking with. He didn’t care about her opinion of him, and he shouldn’t even be thinking about what she said to him or asked him. “You are heartless and wrong and I am not making decisions based on fear. I’m doing what is right.”
Feeling more secure in his own thoughts, he looked up again to make sure she understood.
The space across the fire was empty. She was no longer sitting and listening intently to his thoughts but had curled back up on the ground, away from him. Her face was buried under her arms.
Erich inhaled with a snort. Fine. He did not need her affirmation to know he was right.
Having no desire to go back to sleep, he remained as he was—ignoring the small tightness that spread through his chest.
Chapter 22
Aizel cradled her head against the hard ground. She had never met anyone so stupid. Every time he showed her the slightest hint of himself, he had to follow it up by attacking her.
It was as if that stiff, gray jacket he wore was some kind of protection for his self-image and he was too afraid to take it off and be left vulnerable and weak.
She closed her eyes. Just because she couldn’t respond to his heartless words didn’t mean she had to listen to them. Besides, he would only be a problem for a few more days.
Her stomach churned and she threw that thought out of her head. She had plenty of time to worry about it on a future day.
She woke a few hours later, when the bright light of the morning sun forced its way through the trees overhead.
She reached down and gently felt her ankle. It still felt warm to the touch, and she flipped her hand over to cool it with the backside of her fingers. She tried wiggling her toes but immediately stopped. If anything, the pain was worse now than it had been. It was like her ankle was sore just from being sore.
Great.
She would be reliant on the self-centered, spoiled prince all day again.
“Good morning, Azel,” a sickeningly cheerful voice sounded from behind her.
“It’s EYE-zell,” she replied in her head, stretching herself into wakefulness. At least him saying her name wrong was better than being called a sorceress, monster, or murderer.
Something smelled good. She sat up and turned around to face the crackling fire.
Rising above the prince’s head, elegantly swaying in the smoky fire, was the longest single feather Aizel had ever seen. Easily longer than her arm, the weightless plume was somehow sticking straight up into the air, anchored at its base by the orange cap on the prince’s head.
Below the hat, the prince sported an elaborate purple suit with orange trimmings.
He watched her reaction carefully, looking very pleased with himself. For someone who had gotten very little sleep, he looked far too happy.
Her nose twitched again, distracting her with the intoxicating scent of warm food.
The prince was holding a long stick over the fire, roasting what looked like several rolls of bread. She smelled something more, though.
“I’ve been saving this for a good day. And today,” he paused for no apparent reason other than dramatic effect, “is a good day.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Why?”
“It’s warm, beautiful, the sun is shining. We have good food.”
His list of generic reasons wasn’t quite as convincing for Aizel as he’d probably hoped. “My sister is in danger. I reek of smoke. I’m stuck with the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met,” she responded in her head.
“And,” Erich carried on merrily, “we might even be staying in a proper inn tonight, or tavern, if that’s all they’ve got.”
