Brennah’s eyes widen. “We’re moving? Why? I love it here too.”
The knots tighten even more as I shrug. “You know how these things go with an army. They’re constantly on the move.”
Are they?
I wouldn’t know.
Feyona narrows her eyes, clearly not buying my act. “Since when do you care about where we camp, Everly?”
“I...I...” I scramble for a believable excuse. “I’ve grown fond of the...trees here.”
Ava snorts.
Morwen, ever the peacekeeper, intervenes. “Well, if we must move, I’m sure wherever we end up will be just as lovely.”
I nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely.”
Brennah jumps in with her cheerful enthusiasm. “Maybe our new camp will be near a river with a lot of salmon. I’ve always wanted to learn how to fish.”
As the others chime in with their hopes for the new location, I stand there awkwardly, wondering how long I need to keep this up before I can make my escape. I catch a glimpse of Cenric through the tent flap, his expression unreadable.
Great. Now, I’m not only a terrible liar but also a terrible actress.
“Everly,” Cenric calls out.
I stumble out of the tent, my cheeks burning. Cenric’s gaze pins me in place, and I fight the urge to squirm like a guilty child. Instead, I lift my chin and march over to the log where he sits, plopping down next to him with all the grace of a newborn foal.
I desperately want to say something witty, but my mind is as blank as a fresh piece of parchment. All I can think about ishow ridiculous I must have sounded in that tent, prattling on about trees like some deranged fool.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Cenric says.
I whip my head around to face him. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent liar. Why, just yesterday, I convinced myself that porridge was a delicacy fit for kings.”
He doesn’t laugh.
I sigh. “What did you expect?”
“I expected better than I like the trees here,” he says, his voice as dry as kindling.
“But Idolike the trees.”
His gaze shifts, his eyes tracking something behind me. Curious, I turn as Ava exits Morwen’s tent.
The hem of Cenric’s cloak snaps against his legs as he stands abruptly. “Praxis,” he calls, and his brother materializes, as if summoned by magic. “Watch Everly.”
Cenric walks away, following Ava’s path.
Praxis settles onto the log beside me and smiles. “So, Evie Bee. How are you?”
“Well.” Does Praxis know about me and Cenric? He doesn’t act like it.
Internally, I desperately search for something to say that doesn’t involve trees. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
He laughs, and I’m struck by how different he is from Cenric. Where Cenric is all hard edges, Praxis is open and easy-going. It’s almost enough to make me forget about his warning to stay away from his brother.
“There’s nothing quite like the brisk morning air to wake you up,” Praxis says.
I nod. “It’s perfect for activities.”
