Page 92 of Between Fear and Favor

“Second drawer from the left,” he called, and I shot a glare over my shoulder despite his inability to see me.

When I finally sat back down, Reminy stabbed a piece of beef from his bowl, and stared at me while he chewed.

“What?” I demanded, after spearing a chunk of potato.

“They didn’t tell you,” he said. Not a question.

“Or perhaps they didn’t tellyou,” I retorted inanely, irritated with the small man who was far too clever for his own good.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I should have known they left because you enraged the princess.” Slowly, he chewed his food without even looking at me.

“Where did they go?” I demanded, all semblance of calm gone. When he didn’t answer, I dropped my fork in the bowl, and even the clack of porcelain didn’t seem to do anything.

“I am sorry for being rude, now please tell me where they went.” Words rattled off my tongue.

Reminy took his time putting his utensil down and patting his mouth dry with his napkin. “Ravemont.”

“Her ancestral estate?” I asked, and the man nodded. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“Well, she’s never been there before,” I argued. “Although, I suppose that’s more of a reason forthe visit.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t the allure of Ravemont which sent them,” he said, brows raised as he stood and gathered his bowl.

Perhaps it was repulsion, instead.

As I readied for bed that night, with an empty and aching stomach and a head full of unwelcome thoughts, I was surprised to find a small note tucked beneath my pillow.

Would you believe me if I said I try every single day? And yet, by you, I am ruined.

Rubbing at my chest, I read her words again. I swallowed because I knew exactly what she was referencing. When she wouldn’t awaken and I’d slipped into her dreams, any spare moment had been spent reading her favorite book. The excerpt from The Discovered Dragon had left a profound impact on the both of us.

“‘But know, I am ruined for having loved you,’” I murmured, before laying down, knowing I’d have a long night of fighting the urge to slip into her dreams.

Chapter 43

HONOR

Though the windbit at me, forming tears at my lashes, I wouldn’t allow myself to cry. My body ached and my cheeks were wind-chapped, but what good would weeping do? Even as a child, I’d rarely cried despite everything which had happened to me.

The sun was about to set, and I wasn’t headed west like I ought to have been. With the way Petunia ran, screaming in pain every few minutes, I was lucky I had managed to hold on at all. Clinging to her, I used her neck as a shield from the worst of the wind. I could barely see, snow billowing across the plains as it whipped into the air. I’d tried to grip the reins and direct the horse westward like Dewalt had instructed, but she’d nearly thrown me off. I didn’t know what to do. Any idea I came up with seemed likely to end with me on the ground and my neck broken. So, I held fast.

I wouldn’t let myself consider what would happen if I were separated from both the horse and my belongings. On foot, I wouldn’t survive the night. As it was, I’d be lucky to see another sunrise.

And yet, I worried more about Dewalt. I’d seen him fight before—those throwing knives were a force to be reckoned with—but there were so many of the miners and so few of his soldiers. I couldn’t imagine why they would wait to attack us on the road after we’d stayed in the tavern the night before. Every time I chanced a look behind me, I was both relieved and heartbroken no one followed. I was safe from attack, but where was Dewalt? I didn’t know what I would do if something happened to him. It was there, on my fleeing horse in the middle of snow-swept plains, that I realized I couldn’t think of anyone more essential to me. I’d lost so many people, never having many to start with, and the thought of losing him made my blood run cold.

Shallow breaths puffed from my lips in a visible cloud, and I didn’t know how much longer I could continue like this. The expanse in front of me seemed even flatter than the rest, not a single rolling hill to be seen. There was nowhere to seek shelter. When the mare finally slowed her pace, I tried soothing her further by petting her and speaking quietly. I tried gently redirecting her once more, hoping to turn her more toward the west, but she nickered and pulled back—hard. At the same time, I thought I heard a shout, but when I looked behind me, there was nothing but swirling snow.

“Skies above,” I said, and for the first time in quite a few weeks, I considered praying to Rhia. For healing or strength, I wasn’t sure, but unlike the last months, I held no disgust when I thought of her. She wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t help me, but the idea of speaking to the goddess still gave me comfort.

I promise I’ll renew my faith and become a novice again, if only you would heal my horse and protect Dewalt, I thought.I’ll never doubt you again as long as you keep him safe.

I’d bartered through my prayers my whole life, despite many a master reproaching those who spoke to the gods that way. I would promise to be better at something, to be kinder, if only my prayers were answered. Guilt seared my stomach, and I wondered if I’d only been better, would they have listened without a bargain from me? There were so many times in the past when I’d promised something and failed to keep my word after everything had worked out in my favor.

For Dewalt, though, I’d have promised Rhia the impossible, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

“Sweet girl,” I cooed at the horse, patting the left side of her head forcefully, hoping she’d turn away from it, and thus away from the south. “We need to go west, Petunia.” I adjusted in the saddle, and my breath blew out of me as she jolted forward, whinnying in pain. Scrambling for purchase, I realized I must have disturbed the arrow piercing her rump. Perhaps my saddle or pack had moved just enough to irritate it. When her ears went flat and she took off running faster than before, it didn’t really matter why. When her hooves hit wood, I didn’t have time to realize what the noise meant.

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