Was it simply that she’d felt suffocated at home, surrounded by healers and her father’s overprotective ways? Was it this taste of freedom that had made her want to embrace whatever time remained? She didn’t know. But the longer she spent time with Raine, the more she felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She would not have to endure a marriage to the High King and a wedding night. Here, with Raine, she was free.
Between them, they finished the rest of the food, and Raine took her hand. “Come. We’ll ride toward the village and find a place to sleep for a few hours.”
He helped her to mount her horse, and they rode through the forest for a time. The food and rest had made her feel better, as well as being free of the chain mail armor. “I don’t know how soldiers endure that armor, day after day,” she remarked. “It’s impossibly heavy.”
“We grow accustomed to it. Sometimes I hardly notice the weight.”
She lowered her gaze, thinking of his muscular form. As strong as Raine was, undoubtedly the armor weight was hardly more than a cloak to him. She recalled the silhouette of his hardened skin and the reddened scars upon his back. Despite all that he’d suffered, she’d been fascinated by his bare skin.
A secret smile passed over her face, for they were naught but idle daydreams. She knew better than to imagine Raine would ever be attracted to a dying woman. He believed she was too thin, and her illness made him uncomfortable. So be it. But she intended to savor every moment of life that remained, seizing what joy she could.
Raine continued leading the horse northward, and when they reached the edge of the woods, she spied a narrow frozen stream. It reminded her of a time when she was younger and had loved to play upon the ice. Her brother Killian had taught her to glide on skates made of deer antlers, and they had raced one another upon the pond. Although he had won every race, she’d loved the feeling of gliding across the hard surface of the frozen ice.
“How close are we to the village?” she asked, wondering if there was time to stop.
“A few miles more. We’ll be there by nightfall.”
Raine kept his pace swift, seemingly intent upon reaching shelter quickly. He certainly would have no interest in stopping—especially for a reason as foolish as a moment of fun.
But with her time slipping away, Carice no longer wanted to live her life doing what was expected. The food had given her a new energy, and while she was feeling good, she wanted a chance to enjoy it, even for a few reckless moments. Certainly Raine de Garenne would believe she had lost her senses, but she didn’t care.
“I want to stop for a moment,” she told him, bringing her horse to a halt. Then she swung down and stepped toward the ice.
Raine stopped immediately, wondering if Carice was about to be sick. He drew his horse to a halt and dismounted, releasing the reins. “What is it?”
She turned back and sent him a secret smile. “Only an impulse.”
He didn’t know what she meant by that, but it didn’t seem that she was feeling unwell. He watched her for a moment before he dismounted.
Snow blanketed the stream banks, and Carice trudged through it, moving toward the frozen stream. The water was hardly a stream at all, only twice the length of his arm. He doubted if it came up to his knees when it wasn’t frozen solid.
She approached the stream and touched the ice gingerly with one foot. He couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what she was doing. Was she thirsty?
“What is it?” he asked.
This time, she stepped on the ice and turned back to look at him. “Killian and I used to race upon the ice when we were young.”
He continued staring at her, not understanding at all. Was she suggesting that they stop their travels to...run upon ice?
She beckoned to him. “Come here, Raine.”
He shook his head. “You’re going to fall and get hurt.” What she was suggesting was not only a waste of time, it was also dangerous.
“It’s only ice. It doesn’t hurt that badly. Or I may fall into the snowbank.” She crooked her finger to him. “I’ll wager that you can’t beat me in a race.”
Why on earth would she want to race? She hardly had the strength to walk, much less run. He dismissed the idea immediately. “We don’t have time for this. Your father—”
“My father would have to ride for hours to catch up to us. And it will only be for a little while. Unless you think I’m going to win? Or perhaps you’re too frightened of the ice?”
It was a bold dare, and the teasing look she shot him was bewildering. He hadn’t seen this mischievous side to her before. When he reached the frozen stream, he stepped carefully onto the ice, amazed that it didn’t shatter or break beneath their weight.
“What is your wager?” he asked.
“Whoever reaches that bank first can choose the reward.”
He sent her a sidelong glance, wondering what she meant by that. There was nothing he could give her, and he couldn’t see any point to this.
“I do not need anything from you.” He started to step back toward the snowbank, but she caught his hand and pulled back.
