All's Fair in Revenge

Chapter 11: On the Road

I found three. None of which were good enough for Lord Know-it-all who insisted someone on the road might spot us in the sparse woods. He only gave in when I started questioning him about why his adoptive country was so unsafe for travelers.

"In my country, you can tour almost anywhere without fear, except for the stray wildcat."

"In your country, you can kill anyone who so much as looks at you wrong without trial."

He had me there.

While the lord and I argued, Liv took it upon herself to start a fire at the second location. She collected a shirt's worth of berries. She then snuggled up to the flames, content and ready for sleep.

"Were you planning on sharing any of that?" I asked her, crossing my legs before the flames.

"No. It's not my fault you'd rather bicker than hunt."

Affronted, I crossed my arms and slid closer to the fire with only my hollow stomach for company. I didn't stay there long. The smoke sought me out, burned my eyes, and choked me as it chased me around the fire until I was forced next to Thorne. The flame didn't seem to have a vendetta against him.

I didn't know what it was about the lord, but every dumb, little thing he said crawled under my skin like fire ants. I hated that he was taller than me. I hated how he clearly thought he knew better and more about everything than me; Like traveling, and clearings, and how to keep fires burning longer, and how important it was not to fall asleep on watch, and whatever bullshit nonsense he'd piss me off about tomorrow, of which I was already mad about even though it had yet to happen. Not to mention, my suspicions. Determining whether he was the one who killed my sister would be harder than I predicted.

Next to me, the lord tore jerky with his sharp teeth. "I'd offer you some dried cranberry beef, Your Highness, but I doubt you trust me enough to eat it."

My stomach gurgled in protest. The traitor. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry anyways."

"Ah, Kelvians do have manners. Who knew?" He ripped another piece off and chewed while I prayed, he'd choke on it. "By the way, you're right not to."

"Not to what?"

"Trust me, Your Highness." His words came out so matter of fact, I wondered whether they held some sort of subtext I didn't understand. "Past the wall, you shouldn't trust anyone, really."

I drew the dagger from my thigh and dragged the tip under my nails. "Well aware."

"Good." He tossed a cinched leather bag to me. I swiped it, but not before the strings whipped me, leaving red welts across my nose. I loosened my jaw, disgruntled but silent. "Eat," the lord commanded. "I can hear your belly." An amused raised brow perched slightly above his eyes told me he knew exactly what I wished to do with that confounded pouch. Rather than burn it, I opened it.

The jerky was cut into thick slices aromatic with herbs of rosemary and thyme. A hint of lemon, too. I popped a small piece into my mouth. The meat melted on my tongue, and I had to swallow a groan of pleasure.

"Is it the best you've ever had?" he asked. "I bought it from an old woman who lives on the outskirts of the city. Odd thing, but sweet. She makes the best dried meats. Her son, too. Though, he was conscripted a year ago." The lord caught the bag as I threw it. He re-tied it around his belt. The instinct to warn him of wildlife edged my tongue. I bit it.