Page 40 of Fate's Wicked Oath

“You think I’d abandon you here, but not in Yar, where I could deny culpability for your disappearance?”

I expected a quip in return, but his light brown eyes held mine with genuine regret. “I’d deserve it.”

“I didn’t think Mighty Knights were capable of self-deprecation,” I joked, dumping the wet wad of my shirt and wrap beside my pack.

Faren set the jar of salve aside and rose. He rubbed at the scruff along his jawline and chin, something I was beginning to notice he did when he felt conflicted. He approached me and halted with two feet between us—close enough for my touch magic to sense the heat radiating off all that bare skin. “What I did was wrong,” he said. “I went against your orders and put us both in danger. I am deeply sorry, Mariana, for not trusting your judgement.”

For most of my life, I’d lived among volatile, stubborn, emotionally stunted men. Faren might’ve vexed me most of the time, but I was beginning to learn that he was steady when it counted. Willing to own his mistakes, change his mind, consider a new perspective,apologize. I wasn’t used to it, and a part of me didn’t want to trust it, but as I stared up into his eyes, his sincerity was unmistakable.

So, too, was the sudden dip in his attention—a brief glance at my mouth. The knot in his throat bobbed, and when he met my eyes again, his pupils had widened.

The look was dark and a little bewildered. I could still feel his body heat altering the atmosphere between us, humid and charged. There was a delicate quality to the way he was staring down at me, and it only made me feel more unsteady.

“Just don’t do it again,” I said, turning away from Faren to tidy my gear for departure. “Can you be ready shortly?”

“Are we leaving so soon?”

“Our mission is over, isn’t it?” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “You saw Yar-on-Gray. You have what you need to write your report. The sooner we retrieve our horses, the sooner we can get you back to Fenrir City and part ways.”

A line formed between his eyebrows, as if he were displeased. Then he cocked his head. “We haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. Let me cook us breakfast.”

Being fed was a gift to a girl who grew up hungry, but still, I said, “We ought to keep moving.”

“You think there are monsters nearby?”

“No, but—”

“You said it yourself: our mission is complete, which means we have nowhere to be—or, at least, nowhere to rush off to. Faren gestured at the little clearing, where sunlight streamed through the yellow leaves of the trees onto the grass. Overhead, the clouds were flushed in rich shades of raspberry and apricot. “It’s a beautiful morning. You must be tired and hungry. Just sit. Let me do this for you.”

The offer eroded my resolve. Iwastired. My feet hurt. My lungs were sore. My legs ached from all those stairs in the tower. I felt wrung-out and overstimulated, my magic fracturing on all the little irritants that I could usually ignore: the tightness of my sword belt around my waist; the way my trousers clung to mythighs, sticky with sweat; the breeze lifting loose strands of my hair to tickle my neck. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I wanted to collapse. I wanted tolet him do this for me.

And itwasa beautiful morning. Autumn was a fickle thing: foggy, rainy, windy, cloudless. When a calm day came, it made sense to appreciate it.

“Fine,” I said, “but I’ll get the fire started. It takes you forever—and you’re still bleeding.”

Faren lifted his arm, inspecting the wound. A trickle of bright red blood had slid toward his elbow. He grunted with annoyance and sat on the boulder again, dabbing at the blood with a clean piece of cloth. By the time I’d gathered wood and coaxed a small fire into being, Faren had procured a long piece of fabric from his pack and was awkwardly wrapping it around his upper arm.

When he glanced in my direction again, it was with reticence.

“Stop looking at me like you’re a dog who shat on the rug,” I told him.

He huffed a laugh. “It’s not that, I…” He lifted a big shoulder. “You’re an impressive fighter.”

I poked at the fire with a stick. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“No, it’s more than that,” Faren insisted. “You were fearless.Mighty.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his wording. “You weren’t bad yourself,” I conceded. “I mean, it was stupid and unnecessary, but…you fought valiantly.”

“Valiantly, you say? Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“You decide.”

Faren bounced his eyebrows and went back to fumbling with his bandage. I nestled another branch on the fire. The events of last night seemed to hang in the air between us like smoke.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not going to ask about him.”

A nervous pang radiated through my breast. “I don’t know who you mean.”