Page 58 of The Warrior Priest
“You grew your hair,” he said gruffly.
I touched the ends of my hair, peeking out of my hood near my shoulders. “You grew a beard.” Apparently this was Vizah’s definition of Rhys letting himself go. I certainly couldn’t see any other difference. Rhys looked as athletic and strong as ever, and his warm scent was still pleasant.
He scratched the beard, as if he’d forgotten it was there. “I’ve been told it suits me.”
“By a blind man?”
He huffed, not quite a laugh, but I was relieved to hear it.
“I’m sorry, Rhys. You’re right. I should have told you in person. I just…couldn’t.” He turned his face into profile. “How have you been?”
He pushed off from the wall and walked away. “How do you think.” It would seem I wasn’t going to be easily forgiven.
I followed him, even though I wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted, or whether it was a wise thing to do. “Wait, Rhys.”
“I can’t. I’m busy.”
“Then why did you come? The others told you I was fine, and they’d never lie to you. You didn’t need to see me in person.”
“It was a mistake to come here,” he said over his shoulder.
His long legs made it difficult for me to keep up. “Rhys, stop!”
He rounded on me. The ice in his eyes had completely melted, replaced with a burning fury I’d never thought him capable of feeling with me. The affable man wasn’t in evidence. Not in the least. “Why should I stop to talk to you now, when you didn’t talk to me before you left? Nor did you call on me once you came back. Not even after learning I thought you’d died or were abducted.”
“I told you—I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face you.”
My words might as well have been swept away by the wind before they reached his ears. “I left a candle in our window in the faint hope you were alive so that you’d know I was thinking about you and was searching for you. I even confronted the governor, demanding he release you!”
“Oh. I’d wager that didn’t go down well.”
“Is that meant to be a joke, Jac?”
“I’m trying to lighten the mood, Rhys.”
“Don’t bother. I haven’t been in a light mood for six months. I doubt I will be again soon.”
Seeing him lash out because he was in pain was like a knife to my heart; knowing I was the cause felt like the knife was being twisted. This time I did reach for him.
He jerked away. “Don’t.”
“Fine,” I said through clenched jaw. “You’re right. We should go our separate ways. It’s for the best.”
“I’m so gladyouknow what’s best for me since apparently everyone thinks I can’t be trusted to make decisions aboutmywell-being.”
Everyone? So it wasn’t entirely about me. “That’s enough, Rhys. You’ve made your point and I’ve apologized.”
“Great! Wonderful. Then we can both go on our way and never see each other ever again, becauseyoudecided that’s what’s best for me.” He spun around and strode off.
“Not just you, Rhys,” I muttered. “It was best for me, too.”
He turned around and strode back, looking every bit the warrior charging into battle. “Clearly you didn’t return for me. So why did you return? Is it the pendant?”
“Giselle thinks?—”
“Giselle! Is that why you left Tilting? You took up her offer to be her apprentice?” He swore. “Merdu’s blood, Jac! You thinkImake terrible decisions.”
I bristled. “I couldn’t stay in Tilting forever, pretending to be a boy. I had to grow up at some point and be myself again. I had to think of my future.”
