“”Fancy meeting you in such an out-of-the-way—” “Hush, buffoon.” Not even bothering to scowl at Lionel, Etty instead gave Rowan her most placid smile. She still wore her oddly colored tunic, but what had become of her helm? Her brown hair streamed down around her shoulders. Rowan blinked and shook her head, feeling unsteady on her feet for some reason. “What’s going on?” “I jumped off Dove and gave Beau my helm,” Etty explained with quiet enjoyment. “She—” “Keep moving,” growled Rook, several pa...ces ahead of the rest of them, looking back over his shoulder. There was no fear that Lord Marcus’s men-at-arms would hear them talking; the soldiers were making a great deal of noise on their own account, and that commotion was already fading far behind. Still, Rook looked not nearly as tranquil as Etty. “Goodness gracious, my dear little lad...” Lionel strode forward to join Rook. Rowan hitched herself into motion and walked, feeling stiff, limping. Strolling beside Rowan, Etty continued her tale.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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