Page 19 of The Turncoat King
“I was being trailed by at least one, but I think two, men from Grimwalt. I couldn’t risk being turned away.” She thought of the tug on the working in her cloak the few times her hunters had been near her, searching for her among the tents, and shivered.
“I remember you saying that last night. Why were they tracking you?”
“More than tracking. They want me back in Grimwalt. I wouldn’t go to Taunen at the Speaker’s request. The last time I refused, the messenger and another man came to my grandmother’s estate and tried to kidnap me. We chased them off, but I don’t think they went back to Taunen, they waited and followed me when I left to find you.”
“Why wouldn’t you go to Taunen?” He tangled his fingers in her short hair.
“Because it would have taken me another two weeks at least, and I refused to delay leaving to join the Rising Wave that long.”
“Good choice.” He kissed her, his hands tracing her sides to grip her buttocks.
She had to go soon to start her shift on guard duty, but she would skip breakfast for this. She would do without a lot of things.
She wouldn’t be giving him up.
And his friends would just have to deal with it.
Chapter 7
Luc started dressing after Ava left, pulling on the shirt she had pressed against his chest before she crawled out of her low tent.
“I’ve been working on this for you.” She smoothed it out over his torso and down his arms, and gave a pleased nod when it seemed as if it would fit. “I hope you like it.”
She hadn’t waited for his response, scrambling out and striding away.
Her tent was too thin for the coming winter, he noted. Too thin and too small.
A traveling tent, he realized. Something she had strapped to her saddlebags.
He would have to convince her to sleep with him from now on.
He laced his boots and grabbed his jacket, shrugging it on as he rolled to his feet.
“There you are.” Dak sounded a little frantic. “You popped up out of nowhere.”
Luc shrugged. He was tired of Dak’s bullshit, and he refused to let his good mood be soured.
“New shirt?” Dak extended a hand and touched the embroidered edge of his sleeve.
“Ava made it for me.” He hadn’t paid much attention to the stitches, but he saw now the intricate pattern of swords and waves done in pale blue and yellow. “Sewing is her thing.”
“It’s exceptional.” Dak hunched his shoulders. “Let’s get something to eat.” He pointed to the rising smoke of a campfire and Luc realized he was starving.
“I apologize.” Dak didn’t look his way as he spoke.
“For?” Luc did not feel like making it easy for his lieutenant.
“For my hostility toward Ava. It wasn’t fair of me.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Luc was silent for a beat, and then loosened the tension from his shoulders. “Just treat her with respect, that’s all I ask of you. She doesn’t deserve anyone’s contempt. Quite the opposite.”
They had moved between the tents to arrive at a campfire, and Dak simply nodded his head instead of answering.
Everyone turned to look at them.
“You’re the messengers from the Rising Wave?” one of the soldiers asked, and handed them each a bowl.
“We brought a message for the general. I’m Luc Franck, and this is Dak Xaven.”
