Page 40 of A Brat's Tale
That’s meaningful. I get it. He knows how much I worried over Corrik never forgiving me, but he wouldn’t look for me all this timejust for the sake of some treaty—royalty knows when to cut their losses. “Thank you for not giving up on me,” I try in Elvish hoping he won’t hate my accent too.
“Look at that, Corrik. He can speak like us.”
“He speaks likethem,” Corrik says, his disdain clear and I decide to stow the Elvish for a bit, switching to Markaytian.
The other rider is as icy as Corrik was when we first met, and I see the family resemblance. But I know he’s not just any one of Corrik’s brothers, it has to be Alrik, the one I’ve heard so much about, the one that is theCrown Princeof Mortouge. He’s amazing with his larger-than-life energy and even larger muscles sticking out every which way, making him broader than Corrik, which is saying something.
And I can already tell he does not like me.Joy.“Pleased to meet you, Your Highness,” I say, trying to pull out my most respectful self.
He grunts. “Get him on a horse and do not lose sight of him.”
Something in the way Alrik says that makes me feel more like chattel than I ever did as anactualslave in Aldrien. “He’ll be riding with me brother,” Corrik says.
I would argue that I have my own horse, but it’s clear my opinion’s unwanted. Instead, I move to grab my bag. “Leave those,” Corrik says. “We’ve brought items for you.”
I nod with a last longing look at my things. It’s just poor-quality clothing I stole from around the palace, but they are the last fragments of my life there. At least I’ve got my pants and tunic on from Bayaden, for however long I’ll get to keep them. I let Corrik assist me onto his horse and feel his weight settle in behind me.
I can’t help noting the difference between him and Bayaden. Baya had warmth to his solid frame, Corrik is like ice. I remember there was a time Bayaden was too hot; I had to cool him. I hope I can use my wiles to thaw the ice prince.
Keeping my physical state a secret becomes impossible and I pass out against the back of Corrik. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I bite my lip and choose to speak to him in Markaytian. “You’ll get angry.”
His fists clench. “Probably, but there’s nothing for it. You need to tell me, Tristan.”
I huff. “The giant white wolf thing got me. I’m okay. I—”
“—white wolf? Tristan!”
He stops his horse, which alerts the other members of our entourage. In addition to Diekin and Alrik, there are several members of the guard with us. Alrik rides over, glowering. “Corrik, what’s the meaning of this?”
“He was attacked by a white wolf,” Corrik says looking me over. He finds nothing.
I grimace. “Corrik, I was healed. It’s the blood loss that’s affecting me a bit, but I’m fine.”
Alrik is unimpressed. “You should have told us. You could be cursed.”
“I’m not cursed,” I argue. “Uncle Taj healed me; he would have told me if I were cursed.”
Everything about that enrages everyone. “He isnotyour uncle,” Alrik underlines. “And Rogue Elves know little about such things. I have more magical ability in my little pinky.”
I would argue with that, but I think I’ve argued more than my allotment today. His stony gaze is intense, and I have to stifle a shudder.
“Corrik, see that he gets a proper examination. We’ll stop here for the night to allow him some rest. If you can’t keep him in line, he rides with me.”
After he sets off, leaving the cool air behind him, I tear up missing my life in Aldrien, wanting Bayaden to spank me soundly and curl around me to sleep. Mercifully, Corrik softens as he helps me downfrom the massive horse. “I’m sorry, Corrik. Please don’t be mad at me. It wasn’t my fault.”
There are more than white wolves on my mind. My gut’s churning with what Corrik might think of me and yes I fell in love with Bayaden, I was torn up about it for a long time, but I came to accept the circumstances of the whole thing. I hope he will too. “I’m not mad at you, Tristan. You have no idea how grateful I am to have you back. I’m angry he didn’t tell us the dangers. I wouldn’t have allowed it, even if it meant you not coming back to me. You alive and out there is better than dead.”
Oh.
Corrik has changed.Now that I’m not recovering from death wolves chasing me, I can feel him better. There’s a calm to him that didn’t exist before. I relax. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t ready for your anger.”
“Fair,” he says. “I’m going to check you over now. Lie back.”
Corrik does something with his eyes closed, and his hands raking over me just above my skin. He begins at my head, tracing down my body, ending at my booted feet. It reminds me a lot of what Uncle Taj did when he was checking on the loyalty spell. “So? Am I cursed?”
“No.” He looks over to Alrik off in the distance. “Don’t tell Alrik I said this, but Taj is a talented healer. You well should have been cursed. Death wolves—by Ylor, Kathir.” He helps me up. “You are weak, though. You’ll be riding with me for a few days. We’ll do some healing spells together each day.”
