“Stop trailing me,” she says through her teeth without turning around.
“I’m just ensuring we don’t lose our mysterious intruder.”
“I work better alone,” she says as we weave through narrow pathways, past sleeping horses, and stacks of supplies.
The entire time, I keep my senses sharp, but there’s no sign of movement—just the rustle of canvas in the breeze and the occasional snort from a restless horse.
After several more moments, she stops near the outer edge of the camp. “The person is gone.”
“It seems that way.”
Her long hair whips against her back as she turns to face me. “I told you that I don’t require your presence.”
“Consider me persistent.”
“Consider me uninterested.”
Amusement trickles through me. She really is delightful, but in a sharp, stingy kind of way, like a wasp or a gnat. “Your demeanor suggests otherwise.”
“Is everything a game to you?”
“Noteverything.”
“Well, I’m not one of your little distractions. If there’s a threat, I can handle it.”
I shrug. “I never said you couldn’t.”
Her eyes flash as she speaks in a cold voice—the kind that should probably deter me. “Then, why are you still here?”
Because I like a challenge.“I’m enjoying the night air.”
“Find somewhere else to enjoy it.”
“Why are you being so inhospitable?”
She takes a step closer, jabbing my chest with her finger. “Listen, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I don’t have time for it.”
“I’m not playing any games.”Liar. You’re enjoying provoking her.“I’m just concerned for the camp’s safety.”
“I can safeguard my own camp.”
“Impressive confidence.”
“It’s called competence.” She exhales sharply. “Why are you really out here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Try harder.”
I laugh. “Your wit is as sharp as your blade.”
“And your charm is as thin as air.”
“Ouch.” I press my hand dramatically to my chest.
“I’m done here.” Moonlight fractures around her as she takes a step away from me, then pauses and speaks over her shoulder. “Stay out of my way. I mean it.”
“I’ll try if you promise to stop barreling into me.”