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“What?” Nerys stepped back and looked at Idris, who had only pulled out a dagger, which remained deftly hidden by his cloak. She backed away, matching them step for step like an intruder backing away from a dog. “Idris…” she said warily.

Enough.

She turned to run—and the unmistakable crunch and squelch of a dagger in a throat erupted behind her.

Idris now stood behind one of the soldiers.

How…? Time halted. The soldier’s eyes were wide with surprise, and no wonder, he had a dagger protruding out of his neck, tendons and skin pushed out along with the blade.

Blood gathered around the wound, pooling into rivets that spread over the man’s pale skin and onto his armor.

The man’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water when Idris pulled out his dagger and let the man collapse to the ground, mere yards from the slaughtered citizens.

Nerys forgotten, the two soldiers turned their attention to Idris. She screamed—for him? for her?—but then he disappeared, only to reappear behind the second soldier. Stab. Thunk. Another body fallen .

And again. Idris was gone. Stab. Thunk.

In the space of fifteen heartbeats Idris had killed all three men, with little to show other than tousled hair and a slight flush on his skin.

Panting, he bent down and wiped his coated dagger on one of the men’s cloaks, and put it back in his sheath as he strode towards the horse, motioning Nerys to follow.

“Come,” he said. “Where there’s three, there may be more. ”

Nerys paused for a moment, staring at the corpses, then scuttled after Idris. “Are there more?” Nerys asked.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m not waiting to find out.” Idris placed a hand on the saddle’s pommel and offered an arm to Nerys to help her mount. Idris had just killed three armed and armored men in less time than it took her to use the privy. How was she supposed to react?

That was easy—be grateful he was on her side. And that he would help her kill the R?ll who was responsible for everything.

An hour after leaving the burning village, Idris stopped their horse next to a wooded stream.

He slid off the horse, then helped Nerys down once more.

She gladly accepted—she needed the help to stand from both nerves and exhaustion.

Unbidden, the horse walked to the water and helped itself.

Lucky horse, oblivious to all but its imminent needs.

“We should take a moment,” Idris said. “I doubt anyone will follow us—not yet—and it’ll take some time to get back to the lodge.”

“I remember.” Nerys tucked her cloak around her and let go of Idris’s arm. With her legs back under her control, at least she had a chance to stretch. Not sitting against Idris’s chest in awkward silence. Her captor? Her guardian? Her friend? What was he?

Did it matter what she wanted him to be?

They stood together in silence for a few moments, the wind in the trees and birds’ screeches the only sounds besides the drinking horse.

The branches moved with each breeze, like skeletons waving at them from the trees.

Nerys fidgeted. She’d take a moment to go off by herself soon to tend to some more private matters, though that could wait. Some things were more important.

“Are you alright?” Idris asked, his brilliant blue eyes meeting hers.

“Yes. ”

“It’s alright—you don’t need to pretend.”

“That scene was hardly the worst thing I’ve seen.” Nerys smiled without mirth. “At least I didn’t know anyone this time.”

Idris nodded and avoided her gaze. What? She had told the truth.

“Are you afraid of me?” Idris asked, turning back to her. A figure in black, a man she had seen kill in mere moments—some would be afraid. Rightfully so.

But Nerys met his challenge and did not waver. “Why? Should I be?”

“No. Never, I mean, Nerys—that wasn’t something I warned you about. Me.”

“I guessed you knew how to kill people.”

“I figured as much, but I—”

Nerys stepped closer to him. “Idris, I’m fine. Truly. I’m just happy that it was them and not us.”

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen.”

“No, I imagine not.” Nerys smiled. Afraid of him?

No. Not of him harming her physically. But there were other ways to be hurt.

If she was braver, if she was able to reach out and kiss him…

Would he reject her? Was she just a peasant to be toyed with, or ignored?

Or would it be the start of something she only dared imagine in the darkest part of the night?

“You’re not like most,” Idris said. “You’re strong.”

“I’m hardly special.”

Idris smirked. “No—beyond that. You’ve taken your fear and grief and sharpened it into something useful. You are clever too—you are quick when the situation calls for it.”

“Fina would disagree.”

“Fina uses her words to hide her feelings.” He took a moment to adjust his vambraces.

The wind picked up, blowing their hair and sending gusts of leaves swirling.

Nerys tucked her cloak around her. She didn’t have much longer until she would go to court, and time alone outdoors would be unheard of.

Then the eyes she imagined watching her from the woods would be eyes of another nature entirely, waiting for a sign of any flaw.

“You will be alright, Nerys.”

“I trust I will,” Nerys said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “I’m glad I met you, Idris—it’s good to have a friend. Despite everything.”

Idris’s expression softened. “Me too.” And then it was gone, replaced by an all-too familiar smirk. “You’re lucky you have me. You’d be on a spike in the Ca’mailian camp if it wasn’t for me. ”

“Oh, come now.” Nerys cocked her head. “I’d have managed.”

“Managed in dying, perhaps.”

Nerys shook her head, biting back a smile. With him, she could bury her grief at what she had just seen, and focus instead on what was to come. Even if what was to come was a cornucopia of taffeta, manners, and sitting lessons. “What about you, Master Soldier, running around the camp?”

Idris grinned. “What about me? I’d have startled the camp by being too handsome?”

Nerys choked out a laugh remembering how he had looked when he was in the army. “Not quite. Not quite.”