“Ant?”
He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say, Sephania, for what it’s worth, and despite everything, I have enjoyed these walks together over the years.”
I didn’t know what to say. A lump formed in my throat, seeing the quiet and introspective features on his face were emotion, barely held back.
I simply nodded and we continued to the ladder leading down. On the way down, I played his words over and recognized something else—more than the rare emotion he displayed.
There was finality to his words. Almost as if he was trying to tell me something but didn’t have the authority to say.
Something was definitely amiss.
Chapter 21
On the night of the auction, I climbed into the carriage and sat opposite Lukain. Antones drove the cart this time, leaving the two of us alone.
Finally.
My handsome master sat leisurely at the back of the carriage, a leg crossed over his knee. His red eyes landed on my face and a small frown formed on his lips.
Since when did the mere appearance of me bring a frown to your lips?“You don’t look surprised to see me,” I muttered. “Just disappointed.”
“Ant said you would be joining us,” he said in a clipped tone.
At the sound of Antones’ whistle, the carriage rumbled and started moving. I jostled in my seat. It dawned on me this would make two surface outings in a month. A rare blessing I’d never had as a Grimson.
I would take my wins where I could. The wind wafting through the open partition where Antones sat skittered across my face and refreshed me.
Awkwardness filled the cart as we rolled down the roads. It made me angry, frustrated, and it wasn’t long before I couldn’t hold my tongue. “Why have you been avoiding me, Master?” My voice cracked, shamefully, as I leaned forward and lowered it to a whisper.
His eyes moved from the side to my face. “Avoiding you, Sephania? I have an organization to run, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Why are you angry with me, too?
My eyebrows arched sadly. Hopelessness filled my body and it took everything not to let tears spring to my eyes.Get a hold of yourself, Seph,I thought, steeling my emotions.You haven’t wept in years. Don’t start now, especially over something so silly.“Did you not enjoy . . . what we did?” I implored in a weak tone.
It took Master Lukain a long moment to answer. He looked over at the slatted wall of the carriage, the hull, but there was no window there for him to gaze out from. “I did,” he finally said in a grunt. “More than you know.”
So I was right. I’ve been a distraction.It made me feel slightly better. Not much, however, since his words were belying his actions of ignoring me.
“Then why haven’t you called me to—”
“Have you joined this ride simply to hound me, little grimmer?”
My lips stayed parted. The frustration inside swelled. “I’ve come becauseyour rulesallow active fighters to join. To give opinions. You made me a fighter, Lukain.”
“Perhaps it was a mistake.”
I scoffed, flapping a hand at him, trying to act as dismissive as he sounded. “I am allowed to give my opinions on the slaves you barter for. Are you worried I’m going to get hurt in the ring? Your prizefighter?”
His nostrils flared. “You nearly lost your life in your fight against the grayskin. You’re not as powerful as you think you are.”
I began to wonder if his apprehension regarding me stemmed from worrying about my safety; if he concluded he’d made a mistake training me, because now he had to worry about me dying, when in the past he didn’t give a single shit what happened to his slavefighters.
I crossed my arms under my chest defiantly, glancing away and raising my chin. “Fine. You needn’t worry about me any longer. Think of me as any other Grimson. When I die fighting for my freedom you can forget I ever existed.”
“Brat,” he snarled, leaning forward. “You’ve made that impossible. Besides, I won’t let that happen. You must protect your blood, Sephania.”
My eyes slowly made their way to his handsome face. It was an odd choice of words. My brow furrowed and I opened my mouth to respond—
