As I step out of the tent, a frigid breeze lashes my cheeks and whips my cloak around my legs. I frown, my nose wrinkling, and tug my threadbare cloak tighter around my shoulders. Unfortunately, the faded gray material does a very poor job of keeping out the chill.
Maybe I’ll find a sheep to shear and make myself a new cloak. Not that I know the first thing about spinning wool into yarn.
I make a mental note to change that.
As I walk through the camp, I look around for Finn.Morwen asked me last night to gather mushrooms from the forest, and I know it’s best not to go alone.
Sunlight blinks through the clouds as I weave through the maze of tents, my eyes darting left and right in search of Finn. The earthy scent of wet canvas and smoke from the fires assaults my senses as I walk.
I round a corner and spot Doran standing in front of a tent, his scarred face twisted into a sneer. My steps falter for a moment, but I force myself to press onward.
“If it isn’t the little outsider,” he calls out, his voice dripping with venom. “Still slinking around our camp like a stray dog.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and my skin prickles, but I keep my gaze fixed straight ahead, determined not to grant him the satisfaction of a response.
“What’s the matter? Do you think you’re too good to speak to me?” Doran taunts. “Or are you simply too busy trying to worm your way into Cenric’s bed?”
The urge to spin around and unleash a scathing retort burns in my throat, yet I swallow it down, refusing to let him see how deeply his words pierce.
Still, his disdain lingers, planting bitter roots inside my chest—splintering my resolve, shattering the confidence I’ve fought so hard to build over the last few days.
Near the training area, I pause and watch the warriors engaging in their daily drills. Sweat glistens on their brows as they parry and thrust.
I remain at the edge of the training area, my focus drawn to the five men at the center. Cenric’s commanding presence is unmistakable as he stands with Luc, Praxis, Liam, and Gabriel.They move among their men, offering guidance and instruction, each in their own unique way.
Praxis stands back from the others, watching as Cenric, Liam, and Luc lead the drills. But it’s Gabriel who catches my eye, the one I know the least about. The commander moves with a fluid grace as he weaves through the warriors, demonstrating each technique.
I turn away and continue my search for Finn. The mushrooms won’t gather themselves, and I don’t fancy going into the forest alone.
I round a corner and nearly collide with someone. My breath hitches as I look up, praying it’s not Cenric. Relief floods through me when I meet warm brown eyes instead of icy blue.
“Finn.” A genuine smile spreads across my face as I stare at him. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
His eyes twinkle as he grins at me. “Well, you found me. What can I do for you, Everly?”
I explain Morwen’s request, and he nods enthusiastically. “Mushroom hunting? Sounds like an adventure.”
As we head into the forest, the thick canopy of trees casts shadows on the ground. I watch them as my thoughts shift to Cenric.
Am I a toad to him? Is that why he avoids me?
Or maybe I’m a terrible kisser.
“So, Finn,” I say, trying to distract myself, “what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?”
“I once tried to impress a girl by showing off my archery skills. I ended up hitting my foot instead.”
I snort. “I bet she was really impressed by that.”
“Absolutely.” He scratches his jaw as he adds, “But now, I stick with swords and axes. Cannot afford to lose a foot.”
I laugh and shake my head.
As we walk deeper into the forest, the trees grow thicker, their branches stretching out above us. I spot a cluster of mushrooms near the base of an ancient oak and bend down to inspect them.
“Finn, what do you think of these? Are they—”
A sudden gust of wind cuts me off, whipping my hair into my face. I straighten up, pushing the strands out of my eyes, and freeze as Alvina walks toward us, looking as friendly as a cactus.
