Page 11 of A Winter Redemption

Elise barked a laugh. “That is true.”

Ketho reached into his pocket and pulled out three coins, sliding them across to her. “And will you give him some of the smoked fish with his breakfast?”

Whilst the food in the inn during the summer months was decent, it became barely tolerable in the winter when supplies dwindled and food grew scarce. But he’d sold Elise smoked fish earlier in the day. It would definitely improve Jarne’s breakfast.

Elise raised a bushy brow and took the coins. “He must have made a real impact on you.”

“I’ll be feeling him for days.” Ketho winked.

She laughed, pocketing the coins.

Finished with the ale, Ketho slid the empty mug towards her. “Well, I best be off,” he said. “Be well, Elise.”

“Good seeing you,” she said. “And, Ketho…nice jacket.”

Ketho smiled, running his hands along the lines of Jarne’s jacket. He could tell from the stitching and the feel of the fabric that although simple, this item had probably cost more than any clothing Ketho had ever owned.

He grabbed his rucksack, which he’d left by the bar, and exited the inn into the brisk night air.

ChapterEight

Fog hung heavy over the thick snow as Ketho set off, following the path through the forest. The light and sounds of the inn faded as he walked until he could hear nothing but his own breathing.

He hadn’t quite known what he’d been thinking when he’d grabbed Jarne’s jacket. But he’d seen it hanging, carefully placed on the chair, and he’d snatched it up on impulse. Like he didn’t want their time together to end so abruptly. As if he wanted an excuse to return to Jarne.

He’d never done something like that before. Maybe he’d done it because he’d seen the disappointment in Jarne’s eyes when Ketho told him he was leaving. Or perhaps he’d taken the jacket because, despite Jarne’s harsh exterior, loneliness lingered in the air around him.

And it didn’t mean anything. He just wanted to see Jarne once more. Ketho wasn’t getting attached, and it was nothing to worry about.

Ketho stared up at the skies, but he could see no stars through the thick fog. He yearned to see them. The vastness of the night sky with its twinkling lights always gave him such a sense of freedom and peace.

Ketho would not get lost in the fog. He may not have grown up in the Norend Mountains, but as a half-oread, this was his home. Even before he’d ever set foot in this place, the Norend Mountains had been his home. He just hadn’t known it before he arrived.

He heard a rustling behind him. He turned. A snow rabbit darted across the path before disappearing beneath a bush. He continued walking.

What a surprise Jarne had been. Certainly uptight. But when he talked about perfume and scents, his eyes lit up, and he couldn’t hide the passion and joy he held for his job.

Not that Jarne didn’t have some very obvious character flaws. Clearly too self-involved and oblivious to those around him. How could he not have known he’d fucked his brother’s lover? It seemed ridiculous that someone could be so busy with their work that they didn’t notice such a thing. But Ketho believed Jarne when he said he hadn’t known. For all Jarne’s obvious flaws, Ketho didn’t think lying was one of them.

Ketho just hoped, that for Jarne’s sake, he apologised to his brother properly. He felt it likely Jarne’s brother would not respond well to being told that Jarne hadn’t known and “you always mope, how was I to know you were moping over me stealing your man?”

He started to hum again as he left the well-trodden path, wandering off into the forest. He inhaled the fresh night air. He’d go to Castle Evermore for a few days. Then go to Ores for another dalliance with Jarne.

Of course, that meant he’d have to return to Ores. It would be the first time in over a year. He’d been avoiding it. That and the valley near Ores where some oreads lived. It wasn’t that he disliked it either. But he’d had a lover in Ores.

Ketho had hurt him, and he’d hated hurting him. But it wasn’t like he’d been dishonest. He didn’t want to be bound. Not to a place and not to a person. Not to anything.

Ketho valued his freedom too much. And he’d vowed long ago that he’d never bind himself to someone. Never again.

Still, he knew he’d have to return to Ores and the valley one day. After all, he had family who lived in the valley. He hadn’t grown up with them. For most of his life, he’d never known they existed.

Then one day, an oread had approached him, staring at Ketho as if he had seen a ghost. He’d said something in Nymphish, but when it had become clear Ketho didn’t understand, he’d switched to the human tongue. “You look so much like my sister.”His voice had shaken. And sure enough, after a few probing questions, it had seemed that Ketho’s mother had been this man’s sister, making this oread his uncle. He’d stayed with them for a while. But not long. He didn’t want to become attached and dependent on anyone.

The trees swayed in the breeze. Snow fell from the treetops, crumbling and hitting him. A wave of cold smashed into him, and he fought the urge to shiver.

Oreads weren’t meant to feel cold. He hated that he did. It reminded him too much of his childhood and the illness that had plagued him long ago.

Ketho closed his eyes, fighting against memories of the stench of dirty bodies in a crowded room. Of blistered hands. Of being yelled at and beaten when he didn’t work hard or fast enough. His stomach had ached from too little food. His weak body had shivered. He could never get warm enough.