Page 38 of Arrows and Gems
Branches creaked high overhead, but only a light breeze disturbed the forest floor. Helena shivered and pulled her cloak more securely around herself. The sky wasn’t threatening snow, but late fall in the mountains was proving to be colder than in Ralnor.
Le Capuchon lifted his head, tilting it as if listening for something. She had noticed odd behavior in response to the breeze yesterday as well. Her mind drifted back to the wind she felt before they left their original camp.
“Are you a magic-user? Is it not your face but your ears that you’re hiding?”
His head angled toward her. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because you look like the wind is telling you something.” She shrugged as if it were inconsequential. “I’ve never seen wind magic performed, but I can’t think of anyone else who would use the wind as an informant.”
“I don’t have magic.” His voice was perfectly calm.
Well, that wouldn’t do. “I’m not sure I believe you,” she teased lightly. “Perhaps you should pull back your hood so I can see for myself.”
“No.”
“Ears only tell you something if they’re pointed,” Jean-haut cut in. “Magic can conceal the tips.” He tapped his chin. “Although it can also give the appearance of a taper, so I guessyou can never be sure.”
Helena peered down at him. She could only see him past his horse because she sat on Farrell’s back. “I’ve been meaning to ask: doesn’t Jean-haut mean Tall Jean?”
She thought she heard a snort from Le Capuchon, and Jean-haut turned so she could see his wide grin. “That it does.”
“But you’re...not.”
He winked, then called out, “Brains as well as beauty, Cap. She’s a keeper!”
“You’re welcome to her,” the grumpy leader growled back.
Le Capuchon’s response hurt more than it should have. Was it so much to wish for one male in all the kingdoms who actually wanted her? Her, not her title?
Anger would fail her in this situation, so she covered the wound with a glowing smile. “Why, thank you, Jean-haut. I always pictured someone a little taller, but I suppose I could settle.”
She wished she could see Le Capuchon’s reaction to that. But he didn’t so much as shake his head.
Jean-haut, on the other hand, dropped his jaw before bursting into laughter. “That was good, Margit! Why, even Cap thought it was funny. Didn’t you, Cap?” he prodded.
Le Capuchon shrugged. “It would be funnier if she’d said it to Raoul.”
“But he’s not short.”
“And he’s the biggest flirt in Amitié.” Le Capuchon’s tone was dry. “So I would be highly amused if a runaway were willing tosettlefor him.”
Helena raised her eyebrows. Le Capuchon was less grumpy while chatting with his friend.
Jean-haut released an exasperated sigh. “He may charm every woman he meets, but you know he only flirts with Daphne.”
“And that would be enough, but what you call charm, I call flirtation,” Le Capuchon grumbled back.
And there was the grouchiness she’d come to expect from him. When he wasn’t being perfectly calm.
“Who’s Daphne?” Helena interrupted.
They both turned with an air of surprise. Had they forgotten she was there?
Glancing at Le Capuchon, Jean-haut cleared his throat and said, “No one. Just a friend.”
Her grin widened. This sounded like more than a friend.
Before she could push for more details, Jean-haut said, “I’m curious about you and Marielle. How long have you two known each other?”
