And I choose him.
But will he even accept me after I rejected him?
It’s hard to say, as his pride is prickly, but hope dares to linger, growing larger until I can think of nothing else.
From across the way, I see Kairi rushing toward me; her face twisted in frustration.
“I don’t have the thread yet,” I say before she can get a word out.
“Orvell is getting ornery.”
“Getting ornery?”
“More ornery.”
I understand her plight, as I’d been forced to share a hut with someone who’d loathed me, but my tormentor had a change of heart and now accepts our tribe.
Hers has not.
“I hear Elena’s thinking about putting together a festival of sorts. Maybe that will make him easier to work with.”
“I guarantee you it will not. Now, when can you get me the thread?”
“I’ll try to spin some tonight.”
She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Hopefully, that’ll hold his temper.” She spins on her heels and walks back toward the cleric’s hut as though she were marching toward her execution.
“Ah, if it is not the strongest of the Penticari,” Argen says, drawing me from my thoughts. In his hand is a leaf full of meat that I know is intended for me alone, not that I could finish it in three days.
I force a smile, regretting all the times I’ve accepted food from him.
“There were no juicier pieces to be had on the spit,” he boasts, smiling widely.
“Thank you, Argen, but I’m afraid I must decline.”
His face falls, and for a moment, I nearly take back my words.
But I refuse to settle.
“There are several other women who I’m sure would be happy with the kind gesture.”
Argen nods curtly, with a slight smile, but there’s a stiffness to him that wasn’t there a moment ago, and I can only hope that I didn’t wound him too grievously.
I look over at Ramsey’s hut, wondering how to approach Ramsey. I could simply walk on over and tell him how I feel.
But something about that doesn’t agree with me. For one, I don’t know how Ramsey will respond, as he is ever prideful and rejection is difficult for anyone to get over.
But also, our love story deserves more than second thoughts and regret. It deserves relentless determination, the kind bards sing songs about.
I look down at the weave on my lap, mulling over my situation, thinking of all the ways I could court him.
Yes, that’s right—court him.
Because that’s exactly what I plan on doing.
27
RAMSEY
