Page 30 of The Queen's Huntsman
It was like adrogue.
Not for the first time, Gwendolyn stole another glance into the pouch wherein she’d stashed the rest of the hob cake.
In fact, there was nothing caky about the wafer Málik gave her, and she had no doubt now; her eyesightwaskeener, her hearing more acute, and her scalp felt more and more tingly by the moment. She suspected his hob cake was responsible, though she daren’t ask about it, because, despite Málik’s warning, she’d been sneaking “nibbles” off the wafer all day long… only to be sure of the taste. Her investigation grew utterly confusing. One nibble tasted like pottage stew, another like mushroom pasties, yet another like crispels basted in honey. Her last bite had tasted like those pilchards she’d eaten at her uncle’s home in Chysauster—all favored meals, though not one bite the same, and the only thing Gwendolyn grew certain about was that the onset of whistling in her ears was equally annoying as the tingling in her scalp.
After a while, the whistling grew so loud she feared Málik could hear it as well, though he said nothing, and neither did he bother to speak to her, so lost was he in his own brooding silence.
Fine.
She didn’t really need to talk to him, anyway. Talking was overvalued. It wasn’t as though she’d been alone for months and months, only praying for companionship… eager for news.
Nay.She needn’t talk to the bloody elf, and if he was vexed with her, she should be twice as vexed with him, because Gwendolyn had the greater cause for enmity.
What cause hadheto be angry, anyway?
Regardless, his scowling face remained centered on the vicinage, his eyes quick to investigate every sound. Gwendolyn felt alone in these woods.
Alas, even though she would never dare admit it, she rested easier in his company, concerning herself less with Loc and his men, and more with this peculiar confection Málik had provided.
Light until she ate it, it assuaged all hunger, but although it sat heavily in her belly, it did not make her feel as though she needed to nap, as so often was the case when she ate too much. She was well and truly satisfied, but without the heaviness that accompanied a large meal.Curious.
When finally Málik deigned to address her, it was close to twilight, and then it was only to insist they should rest for the evening. But Gwendolyn was too animated to sleep. In fact, when she should have been exhausted after a full day’s exertion, she felt as though she’d been sucking on willow bark all day long. “There’s no need,” she insisted. “If you’re concerned about me, do not be.”
Somehow, she’d managed not to complain at her worst and now that she was feeling more energetic, she really wanted to continue. There had been no sign of Loc since yestereve, but his men were not traveling afoot as they were. So, as far as she was concerned, if they didn’t need the respite, they shouldn’t take the risk.
He turned to fix her with a pointed glance, lifting a brow. “I’m certain you can persevere,banríon. But no matter that the effort of yesterday’s glamour was mine, you’ll eventually reap the effects and the rewards.”
Banríon?
Gwendolyn frowned, unfamiliar with the word, though he’d said it much the same way he used to call her princess, and that needled her, because, really, he’d so often called her that, not as a matter of deference, but to emphasize the lavishness that was her life.
But that simply wasn’t true. Her father and mother had never heaped riches into her lap. She had earned everything she’d ever owned. The state of their vault should have attested to this, and that none of the yield from their mines could be found within the city’s stores said quite a lot. Because it was used in payment to their people, for goods sold in the market, or in payment to men like Brutus for weapons and defense.
Only her mother had ever had a closet to be envied, and even so, Queen Eseld had shared all she had with Gwendolyn, sometimes gifting her gowns to others, including Ely.
The only thing her mother ever kept entirely for herself were the jewels she’d brought from her home in Prydein, and it was clear she’d valued those things above all.
Meanwhile, the only thing her father was ever lavish about was the city’s amenities—all for the sake of the people. Their palace and buildings were constructed with the people in mind. But if the king had been less generous, perhaps Trevena’s coffers would have been full enough to mount a better defense, and Locrinus would not be sitting on half the isle’s store of tin, copper and gold.
“I need not be coddled,” she apprised. “There is no reason we should stop now. If Loc merely searches in another direction, we will easily be found. I insist we go on.”
He lifted a brow. “You insist?”
Gwendolyn lifted her chin. “Yes. I must.”
“And still here we will stay,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Officious as ever, but he did not remember his place! Even if he were still Gwendolyn’s Shadow, she would be the one giving orders, not the other way around. Yet he gave up that title the day he abandoned her, and if he thought he could return now as her most trusted advisor and confidant—just like that!—and that Gwendolyn would do all he said without question, he must think again!
His steely gaze settled on the pouch at her waist—a silent rebuke?
Did he know?
Yes, he did.
His gaze lifted to her face, his eyes studying her. “You feel invulnerable, don’t you?”
Unable to lie when he looked at her so directly, Gwendolyn nodded.
