Page 5 of Stolen

I turned in the doorway of the stable that hugged one of the fortress’s square wooden towers. A tall, striking woman strode toward me, her shortened skirts snapping around her calves. It was a clever style, albeit one that would have scandalized Rolund’s court. Her gown didn’t drag in the mud as she came to me, and she didn’t have to clutch yards of fabric as she walked. The garment was plain but fit her trim curves perfectly. The gown was also well-made, which meant she was one of the merchant class. Or part of a smuggling family. The last was probably the most likely. We were in Wesyfedd, after all.

“Here.” She stopped before me and held out a pair of gloves, and I realized we were the same height. It was only the way she radiated command that made her seem taller—and older. But she wasn’t old at all. She was around my age. She was also attractive, with dark-brown hair and clear skin dusted with freckles. Her eyes were a blend between green and brown. Hazel, I thought. Her irises seemed to flicker between the two shades. The change was both compelling and unsettling, and it left me feeling a little off balance. Like the ground beneath my feet was shifting.

“For the sun,” she added, a little frown forming between her arched brows.

Abruptly, I realized I was being rude. “Oh! Of course.” I took the gloves and glanced at the bright sky outside the shadow of the stables. She was right. Despite the chill of the winter air, the morning sun glowed brightly. There was no Deepnight here. I’d burn without something covering my hands. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her brown-green gaze moved over me, taking in my riding dress and thick cloak. Her eyes lingered on my chest before traveling down to my hips. “Everything appears to fit. I worried my gowns might be too long for you.”

“Yes…” Heat touched my cheeks as I glanced down at my borrowed clothes. “I mean, no, everything fits well. I’m afraid I’ve been something of a beggar since I arrived. I didn’t bring anything of my own.” I bit my tongue before I could volunteer more information. While I wasn’t exactly hiding, the fewer people who knew of my presence in Aberwas, the better.

She waved a hand. “I’m happy to lend you the clothes. You wear them well.”

For some reason, the heat in my face flared higher. Her voice was low for a woman’s, but not unpleasant. It had a husky quality to it. Her accent was as thick as Rhys’s. “Thank you,” I said, my own voice sounding oddly high-pitched in my ears.

“You’re welcome,” she said again, humor in her eyes. “Fortunately, we’re about the same size.” Her gaze returned to my chest. “Although, your breasts are bigger.”

I resisted the urge to pull the cloak more tightly over my chest, which suddenly felt as warm as my face. I was indeed more well-endowed, and her gowns were tight in that area. “I didn’t realize the clothes were yours,” I said stupidly. Because of course I hadn’t. A servant had brought them. I didn’t even know this woman’s name.

“I’m Igrith,” she said, as if she’d guessed my thoughts. She nodded toward the gloves. “You should put those on. Our winters aren’t as harsh as Nor Doru’s. The sun will be bright today.”

Somehow, arguing with her seemed unwise. So I found myself pulling the gloves on under her watchful, oddly penetrating gaze. When I finished, she gifted me with a soft smile.

“Good.” She looked me over again, and this time her hazel eyes settled on my mouth. “I’ve never met a vampire before.”

“Never?” I pressed my lips together, but I couldn’t help touching my tongue to the tip of one fang. I hadn’t fed since I arrived in Aberwas. I could go without blood for a bit longer, but hunger huddled at the edges of my consciousness. Eventually, I’d be forced to ask Rhys for blood. I wasn’t looking forward to it. In my experience, humans viewed vampires with disdain, fear, or some combination of both. I had a feeling Igrith tilted toward the disdain side of things.

“Your kind rarely ventures into our mountains and caves,” she said. “You didn’t know that?” Her expression turned discerning. “Although, I suppose you wouldn’t, being raised in Sithistra.”

“I don’t know a lot about my vampire side,” I admitted. “I’m only half-vampire.”

Her smile turned wry. “Half is enough. Still, wedding the priest must have been a shock for you.”

My heart rate sped up. She knew far more about me than I knew about her. “Laurent isn’t a priest. At least, not completely.”

Her eyes appeared to shift toward green. “Is that what he told you?”

Before I could reply, the crunch of boots rang out, and we both turned as Rhys approached. He was dressed as he’d been the first time I saw him, with a close-fitting leather breastplate embossed with a mountain surrounded by a laurel wreath. Leather gauntlets climbed to his elbows.

He reached us, his brown gaze moving from me to Igrith. “Cousin. You’re up early.”

“Always earlier than you.” She turned and strode off, her slim back straight. “Good luck today, Given,” she called over her shoulder as she headed toward a horse paddock on the other side of the gravel courtyard. She spun, walked backward, and tossed Rhys a saucy look. “If you’re riding with him, you’ll probably need it.” She turned again, her shortened skirts swinging.

Rhys watched her go with a smile pulling at his mouth. Then he turned to me and winked. “So you’ve met Igrith.”

“It was kind of her to lend me clothes. I hope I’m not putting her out.”

“You’re not. She wouldn’t have offered if it bothered her.”

I looked at the paddock, where Igrith had taken a saddle from a groom and was slinging it over one of the horse’s backs. “She looks like you. Now that I’ve seen you two together, there’s a definite resemblance.”

“She’s my second cousin. Our families wished us to marry, but Igrith has always been more like a sister to me. Her father pressed her to stay in Aberwas and find a husband.” He watched Igrith accept a quiver of arrows, that little smile still in place. “But my cousin is more interested in the hunt.”

A groom opened the paddock. Igrith nudged her horse forward, exited the small enclosure, and galloped toward the forest with her dark-brown hair streaming behind her.

“You allow her to ride out alone?” I asked Rhys.

His eyes twinkled. “I pity the man who attempts to allow my cousin anything.” He gestured for me to follow him to the paddock, where a cluster of men in leather armor like his own waited with saddled horses. As I flipped up my hood and fell into step beside him, he tossed me a reassuring smile. “Igrith can handle herself, don’t worry. She’s an accomplished huntress.”

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