Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I returned from the privy—mutually escorting and escorted by Eadric—and saw the mattress on the table once again.

"Does the cottage hold bad memories for you?" I asked Eadric.

"Not at all. We have very fond memories of our time in it."

"Then why don't you sleep in it?"

"It gets too crowded with all of us."

It was a modest cottage and would be cozy with all of them inside, but not uncomfortably so.

"Are you worried you will be cold?" Eadric asked. "Brandle was already warming the rocks when we left."

"No, I know I won't be cold."

After dinner, I'd changed back into my shift and slippers as both were more comfortable for sleeping. However, my concern didn't stem from my attire. It stemmed from the liberties I took with my bed companions while I slept. Though I knew they didn't mind it, I did.

With each day, I grew more fond of them. They said they feared my abandonment, but no more than I feared it. It hurt to leave Eloise, my other half. Finding these men had helped distract me from the ache–then to ease it. They were my bandages. What would happen when they were removed? I would be raw and open to the world. I would be dangerous.

"What is it, Sparrow?" Eadric asked gently.

I realized I was holding his arm too tightly and relaxed my grip.

"I'm tired," I said truthfully. Yet no amount of sleep would remedy the exhaustion I felt deep within my bones.

He patted my hand and led me to the makeshift bed where he helped me settle between the covers before joining me.

"Name your second," Eadric said, making choosing my bed partners sound like a duel. Perhaps, in a way, it was.

"Garron. I don't want you hurting your side again," I said.

He moved to join us, and I turned to my side, choosing to face Garron instead of Eadric. Eadric sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to me. As soon as Garron was comfortably settled, I closed my eyes.

"Goodnight, Princess," Darian called. "Dream of me while you sleep."

"Knave," I said without rancor.

"Is that an invitation?"

"In the morning, I cut your hair."

One of the others sniggered.

"In the morning, I shear all of you," I said.

Their groans followed me into my dreams.

"No, don't wake him. I want to see what she does when she discovers him like that."

I lay still against Garron's chest, trying to decipher the meaning behind Darian's gleefully whispered words.

"Think, Darian," Brandle said. "What will you do if she's so outraged that she begins to resent her time here?"

"Brandle's right. You risk upsetting her for entertainment that will not come," Edmund said. "She gave Eadric her word she wouldn't hit him. Just wake him."

The heavy heat of the hand covering my breast over my shift provided the answer as to why they wished to wake Eadric.

Without opening my eyes, I plucked his hand from its perch and dropped it on my waist. Eadric mumbled in his sleep and pressed against me. The weight of his arm lifted, and his hand unerringly settled on my breast again.

"No cuffing or ear tweaks for this," I said, finally opening my eyes and lifting my head.

Watching me fearfully, they stood around the table. Garron, also awake, waited for my reaction as well.

"I apologize for any liberties I've taken in my sleep," I said, removing my hand and making space between us.

Eadric mumbled, holding his prize tightly as I pushed into him.

"Would you like help, Lamb?" Daemon asked. "I can remove him without delivering any form of reprimand."

"Please," I said.

"First, just let me dislodge this." Instead of picking up Eadric's hand, Daemon slid his between my shift and Eadric's palm. Nothing changed in the manner of the hold other than the owner of the hand. Yet, my reaction to it altered. The skin on my arms pebbled, and my breast under his palm began to ache.

Before I could react further, Eadric made an angry sound and shoved Daemon away. Daemon caught Eadric's waist as he fell back and pulled him bodily from the bed, taking the blankets with him.

The cold morning air hit my legs—my shift had ridden up in my sleep due to using Garron as a pillow—and four sets of eyes drifted down to look at the now-exposed limbs.

"Have I not yet suffered enough immodesty for your tastes to allow me to sleep inside like a proper maiden?" I asked with an arched brow.

"Apologies, Princess." Darian scooped up the blanket and covered me.

I untangled myself from Garron and rose to put on my slippers, ignoring Daemon and Eadric, who were discreetly shoving one another.

Standing tall, I faced Brandle. He studied my expression.

"I don't understand why you keep insisting I sleep outdoors. But know that I feel frustration the same as any other. Hiding it does not mean it does not exist. I will try to help you, but do not press too far, Brandle. You will not like the consequences."

He bowed his head in acknowledgment and stepped aside.

If they reacted to how I slammed the cottage door, I couldn't hear it. And I refused to open myself to feel their reactions. It would be too dangerous with the insistent tingle running under my skin. So I closed my eyes and focused on calming the storm raging within.

When I felt in control once more, I took out the homespun dress they'd bought me. The letter from the king fell from the bag, a reminder of what I needed to do. My resolve firmed, and I returned the letter to my sling.

As I dressed normally and unassisted for the first time in days, I considered Brandle's vow to help me in return for my help. If I wished to see Eloise free, I needed to figure out what they needed from me. Edmund said to continue doing as I'd done. However, they didn't like it when I tried to keep myself apart from them. They made it clear they wanted my time and attention.

So be it.

I strode over to the bookcase and picked up the shears from their sewing basket.

When I opened the door, all seven men saw what I held and warily watched me approach.

"Who is first?" I asked.

They all pointed to Liam, who looked between his brothers and the shears with trepidation.

"Very well. Let's go by age then."

"Shoulder-length hair is all the rage in Turre. If we wish to blend, we shouldn't cut it," he said.

"It is common in Drisdall as well. However, you do not have shoulder-length hair. You have a nest, Liam." I picked up the low stool by the fire and moved it several paces away.

Liam reluctantly took his seat, and the others began preparing pastries.

Between my fingers and the comb, I worked through the tangles until his hair hung free in uneven lengths around his shoulders. The snick of the shears quietly echoed in the clearing. Once I finished, I used his leather tie to secure the neatly trimmed length at the base of his skull.

"There. Next."

Liam stood and looked at the others, holding out his arms in question.

"You almost look presentable," Garron said with a smirk as he took a seat.

I repeated the process, running the comb and my fingers through his hair and then trimming it evenly. Standing in front of him, I bent slightly to ensure both sides were level. A whisper of warning tingled along my skin. I straightened abruptly and looked toward the trees.

"What is it?" Garron asked, watching me.

"I don't know."

I turned a slow circle. Nothing seemed out of place, but the quiet whisper of warning remained, reminiscent of what I'd felt the day Mother died. I'd ignored it, and Maeve had arrived to irrefutably change our fates. I would not make the same mistake.

"Stay where you are," I said, moving away from Garron and the others.

They watched me walk to the center of the clearing. After glancing at them to ensure they hadn't followed, I closed my eyes and opened myself. I could feel the forest, the creatures, and the men in the clearing easier than the previous time I'd opened myself. They all felt the same, but something pulsed briefly to the east. Toward Drisdall.

I closed myself to the energy around me and opened my eyes to stare in that direction.

"Kitten?" Brandle called.

Shaking my head, I faced him.

"I think something terrible is about to happen."

He frowned slightly.

"Terrible? Why do you believe that?"

"It's a feeling that I can't explain precisely, but something I felt the day my mother died."

He considered me then looked at the trees. "Was the terrible thing that happened your mother's death?" he asked.

"My mother's death marked the start of the terrible things that have happened." While I spoke, I thought only of Father and me leaving, nothing of what Maeve had done. It enabled me to speak the words without restriction.

"I see." His gaze returned to me. "Have terrible things happened to you since you arrived here?"

"No."

"Then trust us to keep it so."

I glanced over my shoulder at the trees once more then reluctantly nodded. Life had taught me that safety was an idealistic illusion. Those who believed in it suffered horribly when they realized the reality. I held to no such illusion.

Something dangerous would find us soon. Perhaps while I lingered here or perhaps once I left. Preventing it would be impossible. All I could do was brace myself and remember my purpose. Cure my father. Free Eloise. And stop Maeve from misusing her magic ever again.

I returned to Garron and resumed my inspection.

"I'm finished," I said absently after the last snip.

Garron rose so Eadric could take his place.

"Whatever you felt upset you, didn't it?" Eadric asked as I combed through his hair.

"Yes."

"Do you not trust us to keep you safe?" He turned his head to meet my gaze.

"When I was younger, my mother vowed to be my shield against the cruelties in this world. I trusted her. Yet, she died, Eadric. Nothing lasts forever."

His gaze stirred with empathy.

"I do not question your intent with my doubt. I know you and your brothers will stand against those who might wish to harm me. But the world is filled with people who wish harm on others. And no one can stand forever."

He surprised me by standing and pulling me into his arms. I didn't simply allow his hug. I returned it, and I set my head on his shoulder as his brothers watched on.

"You're wrong," Brandle said. "We know from the casters that every living and non-living thing is filled with energy. Death doesn't end the energy; it changes it. So, I don't believe death robbed you of your mother's shield. I think you're still surrounded by it. Protected and guided. I can find no better explanation for your safe arrival in our glade."

I considered his words and finally released Eadric.

"Perhaps," I said. "If it is so, I hope it is enough to keep us safe in the days to come. Sit, Eadric, so I can finish your hair."

His was tangled as badly as Liam and Garron's but not nearly as knotted as Edmund's—since he spent too much time on the ground fighting—or Daemon's, due to how often he'd slept prior to my arrival. When I finished with the pair, they both sported hair closely cropped to their scalps.

"Well, this is sure to stand out," Daemon said, running his hand over it.

"When you next visit Turre, simply scratch your scalp often," I said. "Anyone observing you will assume you have lice and not question the style of your hair."

Daemon sighed and stood. "We try not to call attention to ourselves."

"I would hazard a guess that your height will draw unwanted notice more so than your hair since you always wear caps."

"You wound me, Lamb. I thought you didn't mind my limited height."

"I don't. Your charm makes up for your lack of menacingly towering stature."

"Is that how you view tall men?" Darian asked, taking over the stool.

"With a few exceptions, yes. In my experience, men will use their largess to intimidate those they wish to cow. Especially of the fairer sex."

"Show me." Darian took hold of my skirt and used it to tug me between his legs. "You're bigger than me standing like this. How have others cowed you?"

The slow sardonic smile that curled my lips surprised him.

"You mistake me, Darian. My sister and I witnessed our peers' attempts to intimidate maidens many times. While it might have worked on them, it never worked on us. Our mother raised us to think differently about the world and the people in it. To care for those who are unable to care for themselves and stand against those who would seek to harm those who are weaker." I took his chin in my hand and tipped his head farther back. "Do not mistake me as weak. I am the pliant branch. The switch used to punish the deserving."

"Ah, Princess. You tease me with your honeyed words. What must I do to feel your punishing presence against my backside."

Eadric groaned, and Edmund swore. The scuffle of noise likely meant that someone was holding him back from giving Darian a beating for being so bold with me.

I tweaked Darian's chin and released it.

"You are a fine-looking man, Darian." I gripped his upper arms and leaned in to loom over him. "But without means, you're unlikely to find a match. I could take pity on you. Take you around back and let you feel what it's like to be with a real woman."

Darian's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Come now. Don't be coy. I've seen the way you look at me. I know you want a good fucking."

He jolted to his feet. I would have been knocked backward had he not caught me around my waist and hoisted me over his shoulder.

He made it two steps before I could no longer hold back my pealing laughter. A moment later, I found myself on my feet, facing his confusion.

"Explain yourself," he commanded.

I laughed harder, doubling over. If only Eloise could have seen?—

The thought had me sobering and straightening.

"I apologize, Darian. You asked how other men have attempted to cow me. What I said…it was what has been spoken to me and many others in an effort to intimidate us. I didn't expect you to like it."

He exhaled loudly, rubbed a hand over his face, then looked at his brothers. I glanced over my shoulder at them as well. Garron's face was scarlet. Eadric was grinning like a fool. Edmund scowled at Darian. Daemon was scratching his jaw lightly as he stared at me. Liam covered his mouth and coughed repeatedly. And Brandle studied me with a concerned frown.

"Men spoke to you like that?" he asked.

"They were hardly men if they spoke so coarsely, wouldn't you agree? Now, are the pastries ready, or should I finish what I've started with Darian?"I asked with a smirk.

I watched Garron and Liam retreat behind the cottage while Eadric laughed like a fool, and Edmund cuffed him.

"If I have a say, I would very much like for you to finish what you've started," Darian said, reclaiming my attention.

Grinning, I motioned for him to return to his stool.

He hummed his pleasure as I combed through his hair and tugged my skirt to move me closer at every opportunity. His hair required very little effort to untangle, and I had it trimmed to length more quickly than the others.

"Brandle," I called, stepping away.

Darian caught me by the waist and pulled me into his lap. Before I knew what he intended, one hand cradled the back of my head, and the other cupped my cheek.

"Payment for such tender care," he said.

Then his lips covered mine. It wasn't the gentle brush he'd given me previously. He caught my bottom lip between his and sucked it gently. I froze as heat burst inside of me, engulfing me and attempting to incinerate the well.

Fueled by fear and desperation, I pushed at Darian's shoulders with force. His mouth left mine. Breathing heavily, he stared at me.

"If you value your life, you will never do such a thing again. Do you understand?" I asked.

For a few beats, he didn't move. Then he gave a single, stiff nod and released me. I stood gracefully, gulped a few breaths to calm myself, and then looked at Brandle.

"If you are willing," I said, motioning to the stool Darian still occupied.

As soon as Brandle strode forward, Darian retreated. Like Liam and Garron, he walked behind the cottage.

"Are you angry with Darian?" Brandle asked.

"No. I feel bad that he misunderstood me. It wasn't my intent to mislead him."

"He knows. We all know that. It was your reaction to his kiss that worries me."

"I have no wish to kill your brother, Brandle. But I did not speak an idle or empty threat. If he continues to push the boundaries I've set in place for everyone's safety, life will be lost."

When he said nothing in response, I began to comb my fingers through his hair.

He exhaled contentedly and closed his eyes. "This isn't a punishment."

"It wasn't meant to be."

"Why did you wish to trim our hair?"

"So you would look more presentable when we go to Turre together."

"Our hair was part of our disguise."

"You wished to look like beggars?"

"We wished to look unworthy of attention."

"It wasn't achieving that goal. You looked worthy of being driven out of any respectable town."

He remained quiet for several minutes as I worked.

"Do you truly wish to help us?" he asked.

"I do."

"Why? Is it only to free your father?"

I paused my work and stepped in front of him to meet his gaze.

"You are full of questions today."

"Today?" Edmund snorted. "He's been like that since I've known him."

"Are you avoiding answering my question?" Brandle asked.

"Are you purposely provoking the woman with the shears?" I countered.

The corners of his mouth lifted briefly.

"What is it you truly wish to ask, Brandle? I know it's not to validate the truth of my need to find a cure for my father."

"You threatened Darian for kissing you. He cares for you. We all do. Do you not care for us? Even if only a crumb?"

I studied his upturned, handsome face and tried to deduce the purpose of his question. His hazel eyes didn't waver under my scrutiny. Rather than the sly calculation I'd seen countless times before, I saw loneliness and despair in his gaze.

My fingers skimmed over his jaw as I reached for his hair.

"Do not mistake the distance I keep for aversion, Brandle. And likewise, do not assume any affection I feel for you or your brothers will keep me in this glade. I made a vow to my sister, and I won't forsake her for a handsome face. Not even for seven of them."

He caught my hand and turned his head to brush his lips against my palm. The contact made my skin tingle dangerously, as did the intensity of his gaze as it held mine.

"We will help you, Kitten. Never doubt that you found your way to us for a reason."

I didn't want to look away from his warm gaze or free my hand. I wanted to kiss him like Darian had kissed me to see what would happen. Would he groan and grip me tighter? Would he lose control? Would I?

My heart began to race at the idea, and I was no longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

He didn't miss the twitch in my fingers as I struggled to hold myself back or the hitch in my breathing.

"You will continue to push at my boundaries," I said in sudden understanding.

Rather than answering, Brandle turned his head to grace my palm with another kiss. This time, I felt the tip of his tongue flick against my skin.

I pulled my arm back sharply and scowled at him.

"That handsome nose is wasted on you. You clearly have no concern for its safety."

He grinned.

"Behave yourself and allow me to finish so we might eat before poor Edmund parishes from starvation. I can hear his stomach from here."

Brandle laughed and bent to the side to look around me. "That wasn't an invitation to eat, Edmund."

Edmund grumbled and went to fetch the others while I quickly finished.

Brandle caught my hand when I would have walked away.

"Will you allow me to sleep next to you tonight?" he asked.

"Garron's side?—"

"He'll be fine."

"But—"

"No more excuses, Kitten. Choose me. Please."

He kissed the back of my hand and released me just as the others arrived. They went for the pastries that were cooling on the table. A moment of chaos ensued while they light-heartedly fought for the best pastry.

"Here, Princess," Darian said. "I won the best pastry for you." With a smile, he held up the perfectly shaped treat.

Eadric stole it from his palm.

"I'll feed it to you, Sparrow."

Darian whacked the back of Eadric's head. The pastry flew out of his palm. The others scrambled to catch it. Liam came out triumphant and held the pastry aloft.

I plucked it from his hand.

"It is well past time for some of you to leave for the day, is it not?"