"How…" Odilia asked, eyes moving to the light. "I've never seen any mage do something like that."
"I practiced a long, long time. My apologies, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." He closed his right hand into a tight fist, and the light vanished like a snuffed candle.
"No!" Odilia said, her crushed face just visible in the firelight. When had it gotten so dark? No wonder he couldn't see much of the charm. "It's amazing. I knew you could do magic, L—but I had no idea you were so… so…"
"Spooky?" Leonine asked bitterly.
"Incredible," Odilia said, and he swore for a moment she sounded close to tears.
Leonine didn't reply. He didn't know how. That wasn't what he'd expected her to say.
"Dinner is ready," Everard said gruffly, in that way of his that said he was trying to keep the peace, even as he didn't really know how.
It was going to be a long week.
He accepted the steaming bowl Everard held out, stomach growling. How the man had created such a fragrant meal with just a campfire and a couple of hours, Leonine didn't know, but as ever, he was happy to enjoy the results. The hare was crispy on the outside, soft and juicy inside, richly flavored with spicy-sweet herbs. The bowl also contained turnips and turnip greens.
The meal was leagues better than the half-burned, half-raw hare that Leonine would have managed on his own. He definitely didn't know how to go digging up wild winter turnips. "Your food is delicious as always, Master Innskeep. Thank you."
Everard nodded and murmured a thank you, but he looked so miserable that it seemed Leonine had insulted rather than complimented him. Whatever. He gathered the used dishes and took them to clean, leaving them to dry by the fire before he went and sprawled on his bed, bundling up in his blanket and cloak.
What had he done wrong? What had he been too much of? Not enough of? He'd tried so hard, harder than he'd tried anything else, even training to be a knight, even his magic.
Nothing about the situation felt right. He should be over there with them, together in a warm pile that even this bitter cold couldn't best. He should be kissing them, checking them over thoroughly to insure they were well, that no injury from the stupid bandits had escaped his notice. He should be part of them, not over here alone and miserable.
Except he was far more acquainted with being alone than being part of anything.
Stifling a sigh, he pinched his eyes shut and tried to sleep. Thankfully, after the arduous day he'd had, and the lack of sleep preceding that, sleep came with relative ease.
He woke a short time later, though, at least to judge by the moonlight and the fact he was still exhausted. What had woken him? He reached reflexively for his sword as he sat up and looked around.
Everard and Odilia were missing. Where had they gone? Why had they left the safety of the camp? At least their belongings were still here; they hadn't tried to sneak away like he'd half-feared earlier.
Rolling to his feet, wrapping his cloak around him to ward off the miserable chill but keeping his sword arm clear, he summoned an orb of light and followed the tracks into the tree line.
He found them a few minutes later, huddled together close, speaking softly so their voices wouldn't carry—and Odilia was definitely crying.
"It doesn't feel like the right thing," Odilia said, as Everard rubbed her arms and drew her into a hug. "It feels—"
"I know," Everard said gruffly. "We'll get through this, just like we've gotten through every other hardship that's come our way."
They must be talking about something to do with Odilia's mother. Why come all the way out here to talk about it? What was the right thing that didn't feel right?
No, he needed to stop. Their problems weren't his problems anymore, except for getting them to Tesser alive and in one piece.
Sheathing his sword, vindictively pleased when the sound made them startle and cry out, he strode up to them. "I don't know what you two think you're doing, but it doesn't matter, because the only thing you're actually doing is being stupid. You're both old enough to know you don't go wandering about the woods at night. Get your asses back to camp and do not fucking leave it again, do you understand me?"
"Y-yes, Sir Leonine," Everard said, staring at him with wide eyes. "Our apologies, we needed to speak but did not want to risk waking you."
"Well, you did anyway," Leonine snapped. "Now move." He waited until they'd started walking and then fell in behind them, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword the whole while, eyes skimming for lurking dangers.
Back at camp, the pair immediately returned to their bed. Leonine attended the fire, ensuring it would burn the rest of the night, and then returned to his own bed.
One miserable night down. Too many still to go.
Chapter Three
Four days later, Leonine almost wished that horrifying lindworm Sir Cimar had faced just weeks ago had killed him. Even eaten by a lindworm, paralyzed and slowly rotting away in its stomach, would surely be better than spending one more interminable, tension-soaked day with his former lovers.
The tense silences. The shared looks that made him feel more like an outsider than ever. The way he could not escape it, not unless he abandoned them, which he absolutely would not do.
It would be so much more bearable if he had something to do, but travel was most often a boring business. Alone, he could have traveled faster, practiced his magic and swordsmanship… As it was, he was duty bound to protect, and despite everything, wanted to protect them, but that meant he could not turn his attention to things that would have helped to pass the time.
Instead, he brooded over the hair charm that was all he had to work with, searching in vain for any clue he might have missed. Unfortunately, there simply wasn't anything to find. It was quality gold, but utterly plain.
"What is that, if I might ask, Sir Leonine?" Odilia asked. "You keep looking at it so intently, and I know it's not my concern, but you seem troubled."
Leonine looked up, biting back all the angry words that wanted out at their tiresome formality. "It's a hair charm I found while hunting down the people I seek. All that remained at their camp. I'm bound for Tesser to see if someone there can tell me more about it."
Odilia hesitated, then said, "My mother worked for a goldsmith all her life. I might be able to tell you something, by your pleasure, Sir—"
"Stop acting like we're strangers!" Leonine snarled. "I know you turned me out, I know we're no longer—anything. Must you insult me further by acting and speaking like you don't even know me?"
"He said we didn't have the right any longer, to address you informally," Everard said. "Sir Cimar, I mean."
Leonine groaned and pressed his curled hands to his temple. "Damn it, Cimar."
Everard sighed. "Lee… if you are at liberty to share, what are you doing all the way out here? You're newly knighted. Shouldn't you be at home celebrating?"
"King Rorlen was assassinated. I've been ordered to find his killers and bring them home, one way or another. That is not information I should be sharing, so keep it to yourselves, please."