With the heel of my shoe, I create circles in the dirt. Cenric watches me with a bland expression. Not that he has many expressions other than bland. I’m sure a cow has more personality than he does.
“Is Hector always this intense in practice?” I ask after several moments of watching the men.
Cenric follows my stare, taking in his cousins. “It is a lesson. Whether Luc takes heed is to be determined.”
“A lesson?” I ask with a lift of my brow.
Cenric nods and slips his fingers into his weapon belt, his posture relaxed. “Luc insulted you. Hector is showing him he will not tolerate anyone insulting his wife. Even Luc.”
I try to not show my surprise. It comes through anyway. My eyes widen. My mouth pops open before I snap it closed.
Cenric smirks. “You thought you knew your husband. Didn’t you?”
It’s not true. I’m far from understanding Hector.
“I don’t…”
“No, you don’t.” Cenric’s arrogant tone grates on my nerves.
Instead of showing it, I return my attention to the men as they separate, and Luc wipes blood from his mouth.
What did I miss? Did Hector punch his cousin?
When Quinn finishes sparring with Leah, she approaches Luc. “I will spar with you.”
Luc frowns and brushes dirt from his clothes.
“Go ahead,” Hector says. “I’m finished with him.”
The woman doesn’t allow her height disadvantage to keep her from attacking first. She swoops her sword in a quick arc toward Luc’s face, and he counters, knocking her weapon away.
When the men finish sparring, they disappear to the nearby river. Cenric remains next to me, his expression as bland as ever.
Great. Hector has left me with a prickly cactus as a guard.
I glance at Cenric, and my chest squeezes as he fastens his gaze to Everly. Warmth burns in his eyes. Enough warmth to melt the largest iceberg.
Does she notice? She doesn’t seem to as she stirs a massive pot of stew.
He blinks and looks away.
Sadness rears up, striking at me as I think of Kassandra. Loving Luc destroyed her.
I don’t want anything to happen to Everly. She deserves to be happy. Just as Kassandra deserved to be happy.
Nightfall settles over the camp before we finish eating and journey to our tents. I plop onto my lumpy mattress and sigh. It’s been a while since I have spent this many days traveling. It doesn’t even matter that we didn’t ride today. Everything aches.
Hector pulls a small glass jar from his cloak, places it beside me, and kneels next to the mattress. I eye him as he reaches for my bound hands and unties them. I run my fingers against the angry looking red lines and wince.
“I brought this for you.” He picks up the jar and holds it out for me to see. “It will help.”
“What is it?”
He removes the lid and brings it closer to me, allowing me to sniff the herbal mixture. “It’s salve.”
I dip my index finger into the concoction and rub it on those red lines. I cringe and continue rubbing. He shifts, placing his hands against his bent knees.
“How did you know my wrists were bothering me?” I ask.
