He gave her an expectant look while grabbing hold of her elbow and pulling her to a stop.
Guess her hint wasn’t good enough.
“I was going to head to my old quarters.” The querulous tone of her voice let him know how much she appreciated him grabbing her.
“Why?”
Her eyebrows lowered as she glared at him. He didn’t seem impressed with her glare and just raised an eyebrow.
“My stuff is there.” She pulled against his hold and was relieved when he let her go.
“Not anymore.”
She had already turned in the direction she needed to go. Her head whipped around. “Wait. What?”
“Caden had everything moved to your new tent.”
“Son of a-” She bit her tongue to keep the last word from being said.
Trenton frowned at her forbiddingly. It probably wasn’t a good idea to curse his commander in front of him. Loyalty and all that.
“That was thoughtful of him.” She hesitated over the word thoughtful and offered him a tense smile.
He frowned harder at her and grunted.
“I guess I’ll follow you then since you know where you are going,” Shea told him.
He eyed her narrowly before setting out in the opposite direction she had intended to go. She mouthed a curse word at his retreating back.
She needed to get a hold of herself. She couldn’t keep saying the first thing that popped into her mind. She’d get through this. She would. She just had to be careful. Speak only when spoken to and then only the absolute minimum.
Trenton led her to a tent only two rows away from Fallon’s. As his personal warriors, Fallon expected the Anateri to be close at all times.
Though small compared to Fallon’s, it was luxurious. Far better than the one she’d used over the past few months. For one, it had a comfortable looking bed piled high with blankets and furs. Every square foot of the tent was covered with brightly colored rugs. It even had a small wooden table, a chair, and several lamps.
The best part was the tub of steaming, hot water.
“It’s a little small, but it’s the best we could put together on short notice,” Trenton was saying as Shea looked around with wide eyes. “We’ll get you some nicer things, but it’ll do for now.”
Nicer? This was better than anything she had left behind in Birdon Leaf.
Trenton turned around and folded his arms across his chest to regard her closely. Shea blinked back at him, nonplused. Her eyes went from him, to the bath, to the rest of the room and back again.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Get in your bath.”
Her eyebrows climbed into her hair. With him in the tent? She didn’t think so.
“Are you planning on sticking around for it? Because I’d kind of like some privacy, if you know what I mean.”
She cringed inwardly at that last part, knowing exactly how he was going to take it, but whatever worked.
He grimaced at the insinuation but didn’t budge. “I’m to keep an eye on you until the midday meal.”
Shea made a show of looking around. “Where am I to go?”
He glared at her, making it clear he didn’t like her response but then dropped his arms and walked to the tent flap. Shea breathed an inward sign of relief. Another crisis averted. Maybe she’d make it out of this with her secrets intact after all.
“I’ll be right outside.”
Shea didn’t respond. Only when the flap swung shut behind him did she allow the tension running through her to relax. Not by much but enough that she didn’t feel like every muscle was wound to the breaking point.
Her ears strained as she listened for any sound indicating he might have changed his mind and was planning to come back. Moving quickly she flung off her clothes, nearly groaning in relief when it came time to unwind the bindings that kept her chest flat.
Angry red welts marked her skin from the uncomfortable but necessary wrappings.
She climbed into the warm water. This time her groan was long and drawn out. Her muscles immediately responded to the heat by loosening and letting some of the tightness float away. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy a luxury she hadn’t had in months before grabbing the soap and making short work of cleaning off.
Every stolen moment enjoying the water meant a greater possibility of someone walking in on her. Truthfully, she shouldn’t have even undressed all the way to climb in. Up until now she had contented herself with birdbaths where she took a rag and cleaned the pertinent areas. It allowed her to stay mostly clothed while getting clean enough that she didn’t want to scratch her own skin off in disgust.
This was too big a temptation to walk away from though. She compromised by rushing through it.
She was just settling a clean shirt over her head when the flap lifted and Trenton ducked inside.
She fought the urge to spin around and bit back the scathing words on her tongue. This sort of thing was normal for Trateri. Objecting would just raise suspicions.
“It’s time to go.”
Shea’s head bent as she fussed with the sleeves of her too big shirt, tugging at them so they lay just right over her wrists. The pants, too, swam on her and had to be held up with a tight belt. The previous owner had been several inches taller so she had rolled the hem to fit her height.
“Your clothes are too big.”
Shea lifted her head and squinted up to see Trenton frowning at her. He pinched the fabric of her shirt between his fingers and pulled on it.
Shea slapped his hand and jerked away.
“They’ll get in the way if you’re ever attacked,” he told her sourly.
Shea made a noncommittal sound and edged around him to pick up the green leather coat that designated her as a scout. It fit better than the rest of her clothes but not by much, having been made for a man with much wider shoulders than hers.
“You’re not a scout anymore.”
She growled and stalked out of the tent.
“You’re one of Hawkvale’s warriors now. You should be wearing his colors.”
“Since I haven’t been issued a new jacket, I’m forced to go with what I have,” Shea snapped.
“Still-”
“Didn’t you say we needed to go?” Shea interrupted, not wanting to hear about the jacket again.
He frowned at her, the bridge of his nose crinkling, and then grunted before turning and walking away. Shea followed, already irritated. Her anger level rose with every foot step until she was fairly simmering by the time they stopped in front of Fallon’s tent.
He didn’t wait to let her enter first but continued in before her, stepping to the side only when she followed. Two of the sides had been rolled up to allow light in and to take advantage of the nice breeze.
The space inside was huge not only in length and width but also in height. The gently moving ceiling was at least the height of two men, making the room even larger than the great room at Birdon Leaf.
An abundance of tantalizing smells greeted them and place settings had been set on two long tables. Normally, Trateri tended to perch on any available surface when eating, or if they were dining more formally, they sat on cushions and ate at low tables.
This table was normal sized, in the tradition of the Lowlanders, and had sturdy wooden chairs with low backs. For a normal sized man, the top of the chair would only reach his lower back. It wasn’t much better than a stool.