But the guard shakes his head. “The king wants you kept secure. Lead the way to your tent, my lady.”
My eyes flash over to Lu. “Seriously?”
She gives me a shrug. “Sorry, Gildy. Those are the orders.”
I shouldn’t be surprised, but all this time being a prisoner without really being a prisoner has spoiled me.
“Was a deal struck?” I ask. “Am I being traded for something? Ransomed?”
Lu braces a hand on the hilt of her sword. “I don’t know yet.”
I give a quick nod, hating the not-knowing.
She looks me up and down, and I can tell she wants to say something, but for whatever reason, she seems to hold back.
“Ready to go, my lady?” the guard asks.
I nod, because it’s a natural response for me to be compliant, to follow orders. What I really want to do is stay by this fire, to give Lu a hug and tell her that I’ll miss her if I don’t see her again. To thank her and the other Wraths for helping me.
Maybe Lu sees the struggle in my face, because she steps forward and says, “Remember what I said, Gildy. Don’t lie down for the thumbs, okay?”
I can’t reply, because I think I might cry, and Lu doesn’t seem like the kind of person who wants you to sob all over her. I nod instead.
I’m silent as I lead the guards to the tent, my mood brooding. When I slip inside, the two soldiers stay outside to keep watch, their shadows outlined through the sunlit leather.
I can’t just do nothing in my tent though, because I’ll go crazy. So instead, I make myself busy.
I wash, I plait my hair, I clean out the ash and replace the basin with new coals, even though I’m not sure Rip will even be back to use it. I roll up the furs on my side of the tent. Unroll them. Roll them again. Decide maybe I should try to take a nap, so I unroll them once more. Lie down. Can’t sleep.
I find the trio of peonies Hojat gave me, effectively smashed and nearly disintegrated, but I take the one that’s held up the best and snap off the flattened head of the blossom before slipping it into my pocket.
Looking around the tent, I realize that the small space somehow became a comfort to me, and I won’t be back after today. This is it.
There’s a choking feeling that settles in my throat, and I lift a gloved hand to it, as if that will ease it.
But instead, I feel the scar from when King Fulke held a blade there. With simmering fear rising in my gut, I remember that the last time I was caught between two kings, I nearly had my throat slit.
So what’s going to happen to me this time?
I don’t know how the hell I manage to fall asleep, but I do.
Something wakes me though, like a shift in the air. I sit up on my pallet and wipe the weariness from my eyes. Stretching, I straighten my dress as I stand and then go to the front of the tent and peek through the open strip.
My watch dogs are still sitting outside, talking quietly, voices muffled. I pull my coat on, careful to draw my hood overhead even though it’s not snowing, and then check my gloves, sleeves, and collar. When all is secure, I duck outside.
Both guards immediately jump to their feet. “My lady, you aren’t supposed to leave the tent.”
“I have to use the latrine.”
They share a look with each other, like they’re about to forbid it. Irritation swarms inside me that shows in the tightening of my mouth. “Did your king say I wasn’t allowed to go pee? Because things could get messy very quickly,” I deadpan.
The guard on the left goes pink in the face, as if talking about pee embarrasses him.
“Pardon, my lady. Of course you may go. We’ll escort you,” the other man says.
With a nod, I let them lead me away from the camp and behind an embankment, then into an outcropping of bare-branched trees.
Much to my embarrassment, the guards stay only a few paces away while I do my business. Bright side? Soon, I won’t have to go in the snow anymore.