Finally, I come to a stop near the foot of the hill, close to the bubbling creek, on top of sand and smooth pebbles.
Ow.That hurt. Once again, I’m on my back on the ground, gazing up at the sky, once more shocked and dazed.
And then a familiar male voice says, “Hey, Princess, where do you think you’re going?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ROSAMUND
“You ran,” he says, going down on one knee beside me. “You didn’t think I’d find you?”
He has a streak of blood on one cheek, and his hands are covered in it. It reminds me of him fighting off my would-be assassins outside my door.
His eyes, though, are hard like glass shards. “Nothing to say for yourself?”
“I don’t answer to you,” I mutter and attempt to sit up, only the world tilts and spins, and I lie back down with a groan.
“You hit your head. Did you break anything?”
“Don’t pretend to care,” I whisper.
“I care, because I’ll be the one who’ll have to carry you.”
Heat seeps into my face. “Just leave me here. I’ll find my way.”
“Your way where?” He laughs. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’ll abandon you here, hurt and delirious.”
“I’m not delirious,” I protest weakly.
“You most certainly fucking are,” he grunts, “if you think I’d leave anyone in this state.”
“You are the one who carried me away in the first place.”
“To save your godsdamned life.” He rubs a hand over his face. “That may have been a mistake on my part, if this is the way you’ll act.”
“Like what?”
“Like a spoiled little girl.”
Anger fights with weakness and wins. I sit up carefully, the headache pounding in my temples almost blinding. “I don’t appreciate being spoken to in this manner.”
“Of course not. Everyone has coddled you?—”
“You know nothing about me, or how I was raised,” I say evenly. “You’re right, I wasn’t working in the fields or as a maid cleaning the manor, I’ll grant you that. I’m grateful for my status in life, which allowed me to spend most of my time reading and practicing calligraphy, drawing plants and insects, and embroidering.”
“A real princess,” he whispers, head cocked to the side. “Delicate hands, delicate skin.”
“But since my mother was killed, nobody kissed my boo-boos and read me tales, nobody held my hand when I woke up in a cold sweat, I…” I close my eyes and let out a breath. “Know what? Forget it.”
He’s frowning now, thick brows drawn low over his eyes. “Princess?—”
“I said, forget it.”
He sighs. Rolls his eyes. “Fine. All forgotten. No memory of what you said has remained.”
“So what now?” I say after a few beats of silence. “Are you going to kill me? Torture me? Take me to your people and throw me… throw me to the wolves?”
“Don’t tempt me,” he rumbles. “Your family killed mine. I’m a tad unstable right now.”
