Morwen goes on to describe what happened in vivid detail, from Ava’s stick-wielding, to her own spice attack.
I remain silent throughout.
After Morwen finishes recounting everything, we all turn to leave, but Cenric stops me.
“Wait, Everly. I want to speak to you.”
He grabs my elbow and guides me into a tent. It’s sparsely furnished, with only the bare necessities. There’s a bed that looks about as comfortable as a pile of rocks, a washing stand, and a desk with neat stacks of parchment.
He turns to face me. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
Cenric’s brow furrows, creating that little crease I’ve always found adorable. “Are you certain?”
“I’m fine, Cenric,” I say, trying to reassure him.
I’m used to violence. Avoiding it was impossible when I grew up in a Bloodstone city that despised outsiders.
“You don’t look fine to me.”
I blink once, twice, wetting my lips as I try to gather my scattered thoughts. No words come to me, not with Cenric standing so close. And not when I can’t stop picturing that young couple back in Astarobane—the terror in their eyes as the mob descended on them, the sharp crack of stones striking flesh, the blood pooling on the cobblestones.
I shudder and yank my cloak closer.
“Are you truly well?” Cenric asks, his voice anchoring me back to the present.
I meet his gaze and nod. “I’m fine. Just remembering things that are best forgotten.”
“Like what?” He tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.
“I…”
“You can tell me anything, Evie,” he says in a voice thick with worry.
“It’s nothing,” I croak out, knowing the last thing I can tell him iseverything.
He takes a step closer, and suddenly the tent is way too small. “You know you can trust me, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then, why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”
Because if I start talking, I might never stop.
I might tell you everything about Hawke, about the rebels, about how I’ve been in love with you.
“I...”Come on. Think of something.“I’m worried about my family.” It’s not entirely a lie, at least.
Cenric’s expression softens. “Your sister? And your mother?”
Grateful for the change in subject, I nod. “And my grandmother. I haven’t heard from them since I left Astarobane.”
“I could send a messenger,” Cenric offers.
“That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s no trouble. I want to help.”
