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I rolled my eyes. “I’m not being rough, and I’m not scowling. Stop projecting, you old hag.”

The first time I called her names, it had slipped out. I was annoyed with her son and took it out on her. She took it in stride and called me a petulant brat in return. Now we called each other names with an undertone of affection. She didn’t take offense, and neither did I.

She pinched the underside of my arm, making me yelp. “Call me old again and I’ll tell Feigrind to throw you in the river.”

I gasped, eyes wide. “You wouldn’t!”

I complained enough about the river. She knew how much I hated it.

She raised her eyebrows, a smug look on her face. “Want to test my patience?”

A smile cracked my face, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I like you. And you’re not that old. Early twenties, at a guess.”

She flicked water at me for that, chortling. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, brat. So tell me why you are moody. Is my son being overbearing again?”

My nose wrinkled. Feigrind wasn’t overbearing with me. After he realized I wouldn’t run, he gave me more room to be on my own, but when he stuck close, I didn’t feel like he was hovering. I felt more like he was watching over me to make sure I was happy. He left me with Maman because I seemed happy to be there, and when I was tired and wanted to go, he took me away again. That wasn’t overbearing.

“Why do you call him overbearing? Is he cruel to you?” I asked instead of answering her.

Her lip lifted in a scowl. “Not cruel, no. But he insists I cannot do things on my own. I am capable of getting my own meals or cleaning my tent. I don’t need him to do it for me. Ever since his father died, he has hovered. I do not appreciate his constant reminders that I am old.”

Well, when she put it that way, yeah, it sounded overbearing. But it also seemed like she was missing the point.

“He loves you,” I pointed out, glancing at her. “I don’t think he’s trying to make you look weak. I think he wants to keep you happy so he won’t lose you, too.”

She made a noncommittal sound, but something about what I’d said made me pause. He’d said that morning that my happiness was important to him. Did he only have sex with me so I wouldn’t leave?

Pushing to my feet suddenly, I looked around like he would suddenly appear in front of me. Maman looked up at me, a deep frown on her face.

“Where are you going?”

“Where’s Feigrind?” I demanded. I couldn’t let that question go until I got an answer. If he was just fucking me to change my mind about going home, I was going to kick his ass. He was not going to use sex to manipulate me.

Maman could obviously see that I was serious, so she didn’t argue, instead rinsing her hands in the pot of water and wiping them on her apron before pushing to her feet.

“Come with me.”

I followed her away from her tent and back toward where Feigrind’s tent was situated. She didn’t bring me there, instead heading down the path past it to a small fire where a few warriors were sitting around talking. She narrowed her eyes on the nearest one, and he pointed without questioning what she needed from him.

“He’s with Uttin in the village center.”

She huffed in annoyance and turned again, heading towards the center of the village. I had only been there a few times, and only in passing, so I hadn’t taken in many details. There were a lot of people socializing and working crafts around the big fire. Mothers with their babies watched over other children, and an older man with a long beard told the older children stories in one corner of the square. It was a lively place, full of happy people.Whoever told rumors about barbarians had obviously never visited this clan. It was nothing like people thought.

Feigrind was with a group of warriors off to one side. He had a deep frown on his face, and he looked a lot like Maman when she was annoyed. I wasn’t sure why, but the expression bothered me for some reason. He wasn’t a bright, sunny person, but he wasn’t this grump either. Whoever was irritating him was going to get a piece of my mind.

I came to a halt a few feet away. I’d been annoyed with him when I demanded to see him. Why was I suddenly jumping to his defense now?

Irritated with myself, I finished crossing the square, stopping alongside Maman, who was glaring at the group.

“He cannot go. He has a tribute to care for,” she insisted.

“Go? Where is he going?” I demanded.

A familiar warrior, one of the ones who’d picked me up from my town and brought me here, shot me an irritated look. “He is needed elsewhere instead of babysitting petulant tributes. You can survive on your own for a time.”

When I first arrived, Feigrind was annoyed but quiet. But when the warrior spoke harshly with me, he bared his teeth in a growl and stepped forward, putting himself between me and the asshole.

“Speak to Simon with respect, Bhortis, or it is me you will be dealing with.”