it?”
“ Khai ,” Jax’s voice boomed. “Leave him be.”
Vrell hid a smug smile. She ate her bread and meat first, saving the figs for last. The sweet taste reminded her of the plump raisins so plentiful back home.
The men ate in half the time Vrell did. She watched Jax while she nibbled her figs. The giant had removed his cloak and head scarf. He sat motionless, hands in his lap, head tilted up to the starry sky, glassy eyes staring at nothing.
His undershirt clung to his muscled torso. The iron cuffs gave the appearance of shackles on a convict bound for IceIsland, although these were not the same kind. Guards often stopped in Vrell’s hometown, transporting criminals to the icy prison. Those cuffs were always thin and chained to one another. Jax’s covered both forearms and seemed to be painted or carved, but she could not tell in the low light of the torch.
A quick glance at Khai caught him leering again. Did he suspect she was a woman? Could he read her thoughts? She swallowed her fear and nodded to Jax. “What is he doing?”
Khai yawned, his tiny mouth stretching abnormally wide. “Reporting.”
“To whom?”
“Your new master.”
Vrell blinked. “You mean to say he is communicating with someone? Now?”
Khai leaned back on his elbows.
She stared at Jax’s flickering eyes. “How?”
“Don’t play the fool with me,” Khai said. “You know how or you wouldn’t be here.”
Vrell pulled her knees up to her chest and took a bite of her last fig. Khai was implying that Jax was bloodvoicing someone. She realized she shouldn’t be surprised. She had seen Mother do it before, but never with her eyes open.
Why had Mother not tried to bloodvoice her in so long? Was she in danger? Surely she hadn’t forgotten her own daughter. Lady Coraline would not have arrived in Carmine yet. That journey would take at least a week. When she did arrive, Mother would certainly contact Vrell to let her know. Right?
Vrell sucked in a sharp breath. What if her avid focus to close her mind to the knights had blocked out Mother? That seemed a logical answer to Mother’s lack of communication. There had to be a way to connect with one person and block out the rest, but Vrell had no idea how. Dare she risk asking Jax?
When they had finished eating, Jax ordered Vrell and Khai to ready the horses. Vrell obeyed, though she was so tired she was certain she would fall asleep in the saddle. Jax wanted to sleep during the day, though, so she obeyed without complaint.
They rode over the same barren desert plains until the sun brought sweat to her brow. Vrell was so tired she hardly remembered the day’s journey. Jax stopped where a juniper tree and some chaparral bushes clustered together. Vrell tied up Nickel where Khai tethered the others. Jax took all three horses’ blankets and draped them over the vegetation to make a shady place.
Jax unfastened his bedroll from his pack and tossed it in the shaded spot. He looked to Vrell. “You have no bedroll?”
Vrell paled. She had not considered sleeping arrangements. How foolish. Someone else always took care of such things when she traveled. “No, sir.”
“Well,” Jax said, “the grass is rough, but at least it’s not rocky.”
Sleep on the ground? Vrell looked at her horse, blinking away tears. Of course the men would not give up their beds for a stray. Maybe if she made her rank and gender known?
She pressed her lips together and found them dry. Her mind weighed the consequences of revealing her identity. If she did, Jax or Khai would likely offer her a bed. She could sleep soundly. The knights would behave in her presence and return her to Walden’s Watch. She was not certain of Lord Orthrop’s political views, but there was at least a chance he would not turn her in.
On the other side, if Prince Gidon had offered a bounty for whoever located his intended , the knights might know of it. In that case, one of them might give up his bed to see her comfortable
“ Khai ,” Jax’s voice boomed. “Leave him be.”
Vrell hid a smug smile. She ate her bread and meat first, saving the figs for last. The sweet taste reminded her of the plump raisins so plentiful back home.
The men ate in half the time Vrell did. She watched Jax while she nibbled her figs. The giant had removed his cloak and head scarf. He sat motionless, hands in his lap, head tilted up to the starry sky, glassy eyes staring at nothing.
His undershirt clung to his muscled torso. The iron cuffs gave the appearance of shackles on a convict bound for IceIsland, although these were not the same kind. Guards often stopped in Vrell’s hometown, transporting criminals to the icy prison. Those cuffs were always thin and chained to one another. Jax’s covered both forearms and seemed to be painted or carved, but she could not tell in the low light of the torch.
A quick glance at Khai caught him leering again. Did he suspect she was a woman? Could he read her thoughts? She swallowed her fear and nodded to Jax. “What is he doing?”
Khai yawned, his tiny mouth stretching abnormally wide. “Reporting.”
“To whom?”
“Your new master.”
Vrell blinked. “You mean to say he is communicating with someone? Now?”
Khai leaned back on his elbows.
She stared at Jax’s flickering eyes. “How?”
“Don’t play the fool with me,” Khai said. “You know how or you wouldn’t be here.”
Vrell pulled her knees up to her chest and took a bite of her last fig. Khai was implying that Jax was bloodvoicing someone. She realized she shouldn’t be surprised. She had seen Mother do it before, but never with her eyes open.
Why had Mother not tried to bloodvoice her in so long? Was she in danger? Surely she hadn’t forgotten her own daughter. Lady Coraline would not have arrived in Carmine yet. That journey would take at least a week. When she did arrive, Mother would certainly contact Vrell to let her know. Right?
Vrell sucked in a sharp breath. What if her avid focus to close her mind to the knights had blocked out Mother? That seemed a logical answer to Mother’s lack of communication. There had to be a way to connect with one person and block out the rest, but Vrell had no idea how. Dare she risk asking Jax?
When they had finished eating, Jax ordered Vrell and Khai to ready the horses. Vrell obeyed, though she was so tired she was certain she would fall asleep in the saddle. Jax wanted to sleep during the day, though, so she obeyed without complaint.
They rode over the same barren desert plains until the sun brought sweat to her brow. Vrell was so tired she hardly remembered the day’s journey. Jax stopped where a juniper tree and some chaparral bushes clustered together. Vrell tied up Nickel where Khai tethered the others. Jax took all three horses’ blankets and draped them over the vegetation to make a shady place.
Jax unfastened his bedroll from his pack and tossed it in the shaded spot. He looked to Vrell. “You have no bedroll?”
Vrell paled. She had not considered sleeping arrangements. How foolish. Someone else always took care of such things when she traveled. “No, sir.”
“Well,” Jax said, “the grass is rough, but at least it’s not rocky.”
Sleep on the ground? Vrell looked at her horse, blinking away tears. Of course the men would not give up their beds for a stray. Maybe if she made her rank and gender known?
She pressed her lips together and found them dry. Her mind weighed the consequences of revealing her identity. If she did, Jax or Khai would likely offer her a bed. She could sleep soundly. The knights would behave in her presence and return her to Walden’s Watch. She was not certain of Lord Orthrop’s political views, but there was at least a chance he would not turn her in.
On the other side, if Prince Gidon had offered a bounty for whoever located his intended , the knights might know of it. In that case, one of them might give up his bed to see her comfortable
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