With Jarek.
“Eden!”
She turns to meet my call. The grin she’s wearing is broad and genuine, and likely not meant for me.
I jerk my head to beckon her, sparing a second to glare at Jarek.
She rushes over. “Yes, Your Highness? I was about to come ask what you’d like to eat, but did you need me for anything?”
“I wanted to check on you to see how you were doing. I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Oh, I’m well. The mortals from Bellcross are all so generous. Freida is originally from a village by Northmost. And Hettie is my age. She’s lived in Bellcross her entire life and her keeper passed on recently. He was nearly nine hundred years old …” Eden rambles on, glowing as she describes the tributaries traveling in the wagon with her.
And I can’t help but smile as I listen quietly. We’ve only been away from Freywich for a few days, and already she seems different from that frightful girl sitting at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for a bell to ring.
“I was told we’re not setting up tents, and that you will be sleeping in the wagon?”
That explains the lack of a real camp. “Zander wants to keep our stay short.”
Jarek’s deep laughter draws Eden’s attention back to him. He’s with Horik, their stances casual, like two regular men sharing an amusing tale.
“I didn’t think you liked him.”
“Who, Jarek?” She bites her bottom lip. “I’ve talked to him a few times since Freywich. He’s much nicer than he looks. Sweet, even.”
Jarek? Sweet?Alarm bells ring in my head. There’s only one reason any woman would call him that. “Has he tried to feed off you?”
“No. I offered, but he said you have forbidden it.”
My eyebrows pop. “You offered?”
Panic stirs across Eden’s face. “I didn’t think … I’m sorry, I did not realize I shouldn’t …” She stammers, her face paling.
“Oh my God, no, Eden.” I squeeze her forearm for reassurance. My reaction must be harsher than I intended. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. I’m not angry.” That damn Lady Danthrin. If I ever see her again, I might strangle her for what she’s done to this girl. “You don’t need to be anyone’s tributary anymore. We’re not going to force you to do that. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
She nods slowly, as if allowing that to sink in. “But I do not mind, Your Highness. Not for the warriors who keep us safe, like Jarek. They need their strength to protect us.”
“Which is why Lord Rengard sent us some.”
“Not enough,” she counters. “And with this poison, it’s dangerous for them to go looking. Why should the other mortals be required and not me?”
Because you’ve been through enough?But the truth is, they probably all have.
“I do not mind, honestly. It is something they need that I can provide.” She says they, but her eyes wander to where Jarek unsaddles his horse.
I stifle my groan.
“They were preparing a platter of cheese, fruits, and bread for you when I left. Shall I bring it to the wagon when it is ready?”
“Please. The sooner the better for Ianca.”
With a curtsy, Eden hurries away, stealing several sideways glances at the warrior.
I march over. “What are you doing?”
“Checking for any swelling or possible injury.” Jarek smooths his palm along his horse’s legs. “You can’t ride a horse all day and then turn your back on it.”
“I mean with Eden.”