Chapter 15: Everly

Chapter

Fifteen

EVERLY

"Well, that's the final one," I announce, placing the last dirty bowl on the stack.

"Thank the gods," Ava says. "I was starting to worry we'd be here until spring."

We haul the clean dishes back to camp. After returning everything to its proper place, I bid the women goodnight and walk toward my tent.

The wind whips at the hem of my cloak as I cut around a tent and nearly collide with a man built like a tree trunk. He's shorter than Cenric but twice as wide, with muscles bulging beneath his surcoat.

His gray eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins at me. "Evening," he says, his tone warm and friendly.

I offer a tired smile in return.

As I continue toward my tent, I catch his words, carrying on the evening breeze. "...no wonder Cenric's distracted..."

My steps falter, and I glance back, but the man is already engaged in conversation with another warrior. Did I hear that right? Surely not. Exhaustion must be playing tricks on my mind.

Still, a tiny part of me wonders what if…

I squash the thought before it can take root. I'm here to spy, not daydream about impossible scenarios.

As I approach my tent, an amber glow coming from inside catches my attention. I push aside the flap and step in. A fire crackles in the center. I blink, wondering if I'm imagining things.

Did Cenric do this?

My stupid heart flutters again. Truly, it doesn't take much. All he has to do is grin at me, and my heart acts like he's the only man in the entire world.

I grab the terracotta basin, only to find a thin layer of ice has formed on top. Sighing, I chip it away with my fingernails. Once I've cleared enough, I reach for the herbs Cenric left yesterday.

Lavender and lemon balm fill the air as I quickly undress and wash myself next to the fire. With each swipe of the cloth, I think about Cenric—how kind he's being, how caring.

Does he know I love him with every fiber of my being?

I snort and plop the cloth back into the basin with a splash. He can never know. Nobody can. It's too dangerous for both of us.

A horrible memory floods my thoughts—the day I witnessed a couple stoned to death in Astarobane for marrying each other .

She was an outsider. He wasn't.

Those awful memories continue to assault me in relentless waves. The way the man had crawled to his wife, desperately trying to shield her broken body with his. The way the blood thirsty crowd had thrown red poppies at their lifeless bodies.

The gods help us all!

I bring my trembling fist to my mouth, biting down on my knuckles to stifle a sob.

I can never allow that to happen to me.

My legs wobble as I turn to the bed, and my eyes land on a neatly folded pile of fabric on the mattress. A nightdress?

I unfold it, then hold it up to inspect. It's simple but well-made. I slip it on and climb onto the center of the bed.

On the one hand, I'm touched by Cenric's kindness. On the other, guilt festers inside me.

Here he is, being all chivalrous, while I'm...what? A spy? A liar? A terrible guest?

Still, I don't want to squash the warm feeling in my chest. It's been so long since anyone outside of my family has shown me this level of care.

I grab the fox from my bag and squeeze my fingers around the carving as I fall asleep.