Page 37 of The Freedom You Seek
“Yes. Even though, as long as you’re with me, you’ll never be in a situation where you have to defend yourself on your own. That’s my job now.” Did that just come out of my mouth? Pressing my lips together and fighting hard to keep my inner defenses strong, I got instantly distracted by a warm smile appearing on her face and a light chuckle vibrating through her tiny frame.
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
Had I thought that I was coveting her laughter? Past me was a fool—her bright smile was even better. I wanted to see it more often, but—I couldn’t allow her to know. So I just shrugged with indifference, as if I cared about nothing at all. “You’re welcome.”
“Where are you from? You said you’ve been traveling through Ivreia for a long time, but where’s your home?”
“The capital.” Of course, she felt encouraged to ask questions now that I’d been friendly to her. Aside from being tiny, she was inquisitive and full of curiosity, traits I’d always despised, but somehow, with her, I didn’t mind it too much anymore—not that I could let her know.
“Which one?”
“Where the king lives.”
“Oh, you’re from Ivreiana?” Her voice was laced with excitement. “Have you ever seen King Pritatus?”
“Yes, I have. But I don’t really care. Does it matter if you’re born a king or a peasant? In the end, we all bleed red.”
“It does matter. Your status determines what kind of cage you’re in. As king, Pritatus has the power to do whatever he wants, something a peasant could never achieve.” Jama was still turned in my direction, and she drew her eyebrows together until they were only separated by a deep crease.
“I don’t see it that way. Isn’t responsibility just as much of a prison as being under someone’s absolute rule? The peasant can do whatever they want to do, limited by fortune and societal acceptance, of course, but in a way, they’re free, something a king will never be. Or rather,shouldnever be.”
“What do you mean?”
“When a ruler starts to value their personal motivation more than their duty toward their country and people, things become dangerous. The people suffer as decrees profit only the person issuing them and no one else—apart from perhaps a select few who have perfected the art of brown-nosing—which often enough leads to war. History has proven this time and time again.” Pondering, I tightened my arms around Nayana. “A noble king sacrifices his own agenda for the benefit of all, while a selfish king sacrifices everyone for his personal gain.”
“That sounds weirdly logical. Is there indeed a brain under all that brawn, Dion? Who could have known?”
Even though I knew Nayana was teasing me, I preened myself on her compliment. “See, I have everything. Brain, beauty, power—”
“And an over-inflated ego,” Nayana chuckled, and I fought against the silly compulsion to stick my tongue out at her.
Talking to Dion was easy once we got used to each other, much to my surprise. Teasing him was weirdly fun, especially when he wasn’t acting like a total asshole. I’d been surprised to find out that he could take as much as he dished out, at least when his mood wasn’t at its default setting—dark and brooding.
“You think I’ve got a big ego?” Dion’s chest vibrated against my back as he growled.
“The only thing bigger than your ego is your temper.Thatknows no bounds.”
“And yet—” Dion leaned closer to me. While he’d tried to keep a minimum of physical distance in the beginning, he must have realized that riding on one horse with two peopleandhaving only limited points of contact was pretty much an impossible endeavor. His breath tickled theshell of my ear as he purred in a sultry voice, “I have one feature that’s even bigger than my temper.”
My eyes widened on their own accord as I registered—a heartbeat too late—what he meant by the suggestive play on words, and blood rushed to my cheeks. It was alarming how flustered I suddenly sounded. “Keep your lewd comments to yourself.”
Dion chuckled into my ear. “Not if it embarrasses you like that. You should see yourself. Haven’t seen something more mortified in winters.”
As he shifted in the saddle, something solid pushed into my shoulder, and my eyes widened, my heart skipped a beat as my cheeks turned aglow because I realized Dion was biting me—playfully, but still! I could feel it through the fabric of my garments! Unbelievable! Dion wasbitingme!The audacity! In an instant, my body tensed as a bolt of lightning raced down my spine, and my breath hitched. His bite didn’t hurt—there was enough fabric between his teeth and my shoulder, and I could tell he didn’t use much force—but how did he dare tonibbleat me? “What in the gods’ good names, Dion?”
He let go of me and laughed. “You lose your composure easily, don’t you?”
The infuriating man was more than just smug, and I buried the urge to smack him. Forcing myself to keep my eyes straight ahead, I did my best to avoid facing Dion before he noticed how much his action had thrown me off. I mean, it was nice to see him having a playful side, but this was outside of everything I’d experienced with anyone before. My skin still throbbed, and warmth radiated inwaves from the spot where he’d bitten me. “You’re like a feral beast hidden in human skin.”
“And you’d better never forget that, Jama,” Dion purred.
I didn’t dignify him with an answer. Instead, I concentrated on how mad I was with the frustrating man behind me. I was definitely not dwelling on how I had secretly enjoyed the way his bite felt and that I didn’t mind ittoomuch. Because I wasn’t. And should he ever repeat something like that, I’d raise the fiery pits of damnation upon this insufferable man. He wouldn’t even know what hit him.
A routine formed during the next few uneventful days. We pushed the horses as far as we could without exhausting and endangering them and, just as planned, stayed off the main roads. At night, we rested, and Dion insisted on putting his bedroll next to mine every time. When I confronted him about it, he shrugged and told mehe wasjust taking his duties seriously.
After that talk, I’d begun to threaten him every night before going to bed that if he got too close while I was sleeping, I wouldn’t hesitate to castrate him. Usually, he would just grin at me, which coaxed his dimples out—followed by my blood flushing to my cheeks. He and hisstupid dimples should be cursed, and so should be my weakness for them.
My health improved from day to day, and thanks to a balm Ireas had given me, the blue and black marks on my neck were barely visible anymore. The same could be said about Jelric’s bite mark on my cheek, and to my biggest relief, it appeared like this violation wouldn’t leave a scar. Even my back was healing fine, my muscles got used to me being on horseback for long hours every day, and the better I felt, the more it itched in my fingers to step up and take on some responsibilities within the group. I hated being idle.