Page 52 of Betrothed

Fawn nodded fervently. “I will. I’ll do it gladly!”

Chastity’s hands twitched in Fawn’s grip. She looked at her son expectantly. But Errol’s gaze did not waver from Fawn, who let go of Chastity to grab his shirt.

“Please,” she said. “I have nothing else but you. I… I don’t know where else I would go. I belong with you, in that dear little village that’s waiting for us.”

Something flickered through Errol’s face. Longing, perhaps. Desire for that simple life where he lorded over everything and everyone in that pathetic village. But then it was gone, and he reached up to cover Fawn’s hands where they were knotted in his shirt.

“Fawn,” he said softly, stroking his bandaged hand against her palm. “Sweet thing. Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

Fawn let her shaky smile drop. She gave herself a few more moments of staring at him, as if all the hope was draining out of her. Then she let out a dry sob and turned to run.

Errol held her fast. But his grip was weak, and Fawn was strong. Stronger than this puny man ever knew. She drove her forehead into his hands, and he released her with a pained shout.

The hunters brought up their crossbows.

“What are we doing?” one of them bellowed.

“Just shoot,” the other one snarled.

A bolt spun past Fawn’s head and slammed into the stone wall next to her. She ran faster, unable to stop a fearful glee from taking over her face as she leapt onto the mountain path.

She could see the shadows already. Thin wisps of them were reaching from an offshoot path, more energized than before. They had not had such action in a long time. And Fawn was going to give them more.

“Not the net,” she heard one of the hunters yell. “Oi! Not yet, you daft shit! Wait for the monster!”

Errol was gaining on her. Fawn could hear his breath, ragged and furious as he chased her down.

They were almost at the shadows. Fawn let herself slow and pretended to stumble.

Errol leapt on her with a triumphant cry. He knocked her to the ground, his eyes streaming as his hand bled through his bandages.

Fawn fumbled for the knife in her pocket. Errol grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she dropped it, sharp pain shooting up her arm.

“There,” Errol said, a vein bulging in his forehead. “What will you do now, hmm? You little bitch. You think you’re too good for me? You’re dirt on my shoe. You don’t even deserve to lick the dirt on my shoe!”

“And yet,” Fawn said, strained. “You wanted me as a wife.”

Errol snarled with his useless, blunt teeth.

“Only for my brother,” he said, choking up. “It was what Renly would have wanted.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit what that small-dick shithead would have wanted,” Fawn admitted.

The expression that crossed Errol’s face was worth him pushing her harder into the rocky path. It was the disbelieving expression of a dog owner whose pet had been obedient for so long, only to piss all over his new rug.

“You insolent little bitch,” Errol hissed.

One of the hunters yelled from down the road: “OI!”

Errol’s head snapped up just in time to watch Zax sprint out and bowl the hunters over before sprinting full tilt for the shadowy path just above where Fawn lay. Fawn craned her head to watch him, but Zax didn’t stop. He ran right past her and into the shadowy path.

Errol’s terror turned to shocked glee as Zax ran past, vanishing into the shadowy path with the hunters on his tail.

“Looks like your monstrous husband has decided you aren’t worth it after all,” Errol declared. “That makes two of us.”

He reached for the knife he had twisted out of her hand. He wasn’t just stopping at taunts, Fawn realized with faint surprise. He was actually going to kill her.

He raised his knife over Fawn’s chest.