Page 39 of Between Fear and Favor

I averted my eyes from her lips as they twisted into a crooked grin.

“You said your home was near the spring we crossed?” I asked, wishing to change the subject. If I allowed myself to think too much of life and death, I wouldn’t be able to do anything else.

“You want to see it?” Elora asked, before standing and brushing off her palms. When she offered her hand to me, the rules of chivalry dictated I shouldn’t take it. They also said I shouldn’t be with her, alone, in the dark, without a chaperone. I accepted her offer of assistance, savoring the rub of her smooth skin against mine. I let my hand linger for a few seconds longer than I should have as I rose to my full height.

Part of me wondered if I hadn’t pulled away, would she have maintained the contact?

Chapter 20

HONOR

Thank RhiaI’d never been afraid of tight spaces. The obsidian tunnel wasn’t exactly small, but the impressive darkness created a sense of proximity. Though the tunnel was wide enough for four horses to comfortably walk beside each other, Dewalt preferred half that. I wondered, with all the effort to make the tunnel so wide, why they didn’t make it any taller. I swore Dewalt’s head grazed the ceiling in front of me. He could have slouched farther down, but his posture was just as perfect as the rest of him. I wondered if he intentionally positioned himself directly in front of me to torment me.

Though he’d had it evened out from the botched cut I’d given him, seeing how much shorter his hair was made my stomach twist; I couldn’t help but feel responsible. He’d always kept it pulled back, the shaved sides and tattoos visible, but ever since it had been cut, he’d worn it down. Barely skimming the tops of his shoulders, it was still longer than most men chose to wear. I was sure he missed the long, glossy strands which had once hung down to the small of his back. I looked down, studying my hands holding my horse’s reins, and began to twist my mother’s ring on my finger. It was easier to look at than the arrow-straight back of the man before me.

I was frightened of horses, but riding was really quite boring. The horse required little from me, and after the stress of mounting the enormous creature, it was quite easy to let my mind wander. I didn’t even need to hold the reins, so I let go. Laughing at the exhilaration the simple act gave me, I thought of all the ways I’d changed in the last few months. I wondered again if I should start using my full name. Gifted by my deceased mother, it would make sense to pay respect to her by using it, but it didn’t feel right. Especially because it was inspired by the gods. Honor, because my mother had preferred Hanwen. I wondered if she would have chosen to worship him if she knew she’d die due to wrath and violence. No—I didn’t want to use the name.

Dickey cleared his throat beside me, and I was suddenly glad for Dewalt’s choosing him to come with us. I could barely see him in the dim torchlight. With the obsidian walls absorbing the glow, it was hard to make out anything in the dark. Except the boy’s ginger hair. It caught the orange tones from the fire, and the brightness matched Dickey’s disposition.

“How did you talk the tailor into making you a cloak so fast?” he asked, nodding toward the warm, pine-green garment wrapped tightly around me.

My face heated, and I swore Dewalt’s perfect posture got even more straight as I watched. “It was a gift,” I answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask.

“From who?” Dickey asked. I gave it a moment, wondering if perhaps Dewalt would answer so I wouldn’t have to. When it became clear he wasn’t going to, I sighed.

“The cap—I mean—the duke gave it to me.” Dewalt’s head tilted to the left the tiniest amount, and it filled me with doubt. I wondered if I’d referred to him incorrectly; titles had always confused me. I’d found out he was still a duke after our meeting with the Crown, and I had tried to figure out how to address him. General Holata, Duke of Somewhere had been what I’d settled on, since he hadn’t been given lands yet. But I couldn’t say that, of course. If I ever had to refer to him in such a manner, I thought ‘Your Grace’ would be best.

When I felt Dickey watching me, I averted my eyes. The gift had confused me. Beautiful, the woolen fabric was everything I could have wanted in a cloak. I’d been used to the white I’d been forced to wear as a novice, and I’d never been able to choose something for myself. Somehow, Dewalt picked exactly what I would have wanted. After being taught that wanting fine things was an affront to the gods, it almost felt wrong to accept such a gift. Simple, with the only adornment being the metal buttons holding it shut at the neck, the cloak was practical. The wool had been dyed a dark evergreen, and I loved it—nearly as much as I loved the woolen breeches he’d also brought me. I’d never been allowed to wear trousers, let alone ones as tight as this. But the interior was plush and warm, and I didn’t think I’d ever take them off again. Then there were the gloves, the boots, the warm shirts, and the note he’d left. I pressed my lips together when I thought about what he’d written.

Now we’re even.

“Dewalt?” Dickey asked, sputtering.

“Why so surprised, Dickey? Did I or did I not purchase new boots for you last autumn?” Dewalt finally broke the silence, and I was surprised to hear his playful tone. In the light of the torch beside him, it was hard to make out much of his profile aside from the shadow of his eyelashes cast over his cheeks. His beauty was severe, made of sharp lines and harsh shadows. Striking, like a blow to the chest. But the laugh lines of what I knew to be a brilliant smile softened him, dimming his intensity.

“Well, that’s because you like me, and I couldn’t afford—” Dewalt made a small sound deep in his throat, and the young man beside me gulped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say you dislike the princess,” Dickey stuttered. I stiffened at the title. Not just because he wasn’t supposed to refer to me as such once we left the palace, but because I was no princess. As far as I was concerned, Declan being my sire was not something I’d ever claim, no matter if riches or an easier life awaited me. I didn’t want it. Despite the elven-blood he gave me, I barely even knew how to use magick, and I had little desire to learn. I was my mother’s daughter and nothing else.

“First thing: who said I liked you?” Dewalt asked, amusement glinting in his eyes before he turned forward. Dickey instantly relaxed. It was odd, seeing anyone treat Dewalt with such deference. In the last few weeks I’d indirectly witnessed his leadership, listening as ailing soldiers spoke of him, I’d never heard him be punitive or hateful. By all accounts, he treated everyone with kindness and respect. Except me, apparently. And yet, Dickey appeared nervous until he sensed Dewalt’s mood. I wondered if it was because of his relatively new status as a soldier in the king’s army.

“As for the affording it, I don’t remember novices being paid a wage. I wasn’t about to listen to her whining,” Dewalt added.

“I don’t whine,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the back of his head. Despite myself, I noticed he didn’t correct the notion that he disliked me. But part of me couldn’t blame him for it. The bigger part, the louder part, was still vexed by his harsh words which had rubbed against my skin, chafing against all my other failures.

“Your horse begs to differ.”

“That was a conversation between me and Pansy. Or Petunia.” I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember which. Whatever her name, she’d heard me grumble quite a bit as Dickey helped me clamber atop her. “You shouldn’t have eavesdropped.”

“I suppose my concern was misplaced then. I should have given the horse something to muffle your noise instead.”

I was about to tell him I’d like to do more than muffle his noise—perhaps throttle his neck—but I bit my lip instead. I wished I could have purchased my own things. Some of my mother’s things had earned a fair price when I’d sold it, but between having to buy new clothing and paying for my room above the tavern, I’d almost run out. I knew I could have stayed at the dormitory—repaired after what happened before the siege—but I didn’t think I could see the women there. Not after I was certain about my own paternity. How could I look any of them in the eye, knowing I had the blood of their tormentor running through my veins?

Anything left over after handling my necessities, the meager amount I received from helping with the dying and injured, had gone straight to the dormitory. They needed it,deservedit, more than me. I would have frozen if Dewalt hadn’t helped me.

“I never said thank you. I certainly would have been miserable without your gifts.” I did my best to hide any irritation in my voice because I spoke true. He said nothing, though he nodded to show he’d heard me. I pulled the warm cloak tighter, shivering harshly. My right shoulder had been aching from the cold and when I accidentally jerked it, pain shot through me. I winced, stretching and rotating my arm to ease the ache.

“We’re going to stop for the night,” Dewalt said, his voice crisp as it echoed down the long tunnel. I’d never been more relieved; I was freezing, and my rear end was hurting. It was strange, being cramped together. But we were sheltered from the elements, and that was something to be grateful for. I couldn’t imagine being outside in the wind we could hear a few feet above us. Salas, her short red hair only a shade lighter than Dickey’s, placed torches in a few of the sconces littering the walls. The other woman, whose name I couldn’t remember, used a length of rope stretched across the tunnel from sconce to sconce to secure the horses on our side of it. Dickey was busy lighting a fire when another man approached, giving me a timid smile before averting his eyes. He was tall, almost as tall as Dewalt. But where one was lean—all keen angles and strength—the man who approached was thick with visible muscle. He seemed kind enough from our brief interactions, even if his bulk intimidated me.

“‘Scuse me, Miss Nor,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “May I help you with your pack? I’m Turman, by the way.”

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