Page 15 of The Warlord’s Princess (Warlords of Tempest #3)

ASHA

After our morning training, which Meg insists we do no matter how many other things need to get done, I go to the cauldron and grab a bowl of soup.

Because I can no longer eat in Ramsey’s hut, I scan the tables, looking for a place to sit.

People watch me, staring, as they had during training. A few wry grins are followed by giggles and whispers. I tried to ignore them, but I can’t help but feel self-conscious.

Fiona moves to make space for me, and I slide in next to her, smiling in thanks.

Violet sits across from me, smirking. To her right sits Meg, who’s glaring at her.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Meg says, her eyes never leaving Violet.

I eat a few bites, but can’t shake the feeling that everyone is still looking at me, even Arwin, who’s seated at another table, and Fenris, who’s not even seated with the women.

I push my bowl away and blot my lips with my napkin.

“Would one of you care to tell me why everyone is staring at me?”

Looking like she’s about to explode, Violet blurts, “Is it true you covered yourself in spice and asked Ramsey to lick them off?”

My jaw drops.

Meg slaps the back of Violet’s head.

“Wh-who told you that?” I stutter. “Was it Nori?”

“Nobody said that ,” Meg huffs, her expression sympathetic. “Violet is just making up tall tales based on your visit to the cleric’s hut.”

“I’ll have to thank Kairi for such interesting chatter,” I grumble.

“To be fair, she wasn’t being malicious,” Fiona says. “At night, we talk about our day in the longhouse. It was Violet who decided to make it vulgar.”

I shoot Violet a hostile look. “Why would you even think that?”

Violet lifts her hands, palms toward the sky, in an innocent shrug. “Why would you rub spice all over your body if not to get eaten?”

Sighing, I dig into my soup, wondering how far the malicious chatter has spread.

And how Ramsey will react if he hears it.

I’m still unsure of why he did what he did in the cave, though I’m sure it’s not due to any affection he has for me.

It’s likely he was curious, wanting to see if the experience would be enjoyable.

Judging by his leaving the cave straight after, I’d say it was not.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t chatter so freely about things you do not know.”

Meg glances askance at Violet. “Do not worry. Not another word will come out of this one.”

Violet rolls her eyes.

I finish my soup and go back to Ramsey’s hut to work on my weaves, still bothered by the chatter being spread.

Admittedly, it was stupid of me to rub spice on my skin. It was strong, but I figured since Ramsey enjoyed the flavor on his meat, the scent might make him less dour.

Nothing makes him less dour.

That’s not true, though. He acted far differently toward me in the cave, and again, I wonder if Nori was right.

Not that she can be trusted with affairs of the heart. She’s logical to a fault, yet cannot recognize Dogan’s feelings for her.

The door swings open. I expect to see Ramsey because there wasn’t a knock. Instead, Amber steps in, carrying a bag I’d woven a while back.

She throws the bag on the bed and looks down at me, her eyes full of their typical contempt.

Looks like she’s back to normal.

“What are you still doing here?” she sneers.

I look down at my weave, then back up at her. “I’m working. As you should be.”

“Well, you need to start working at the longhouse.”

“There’s not enough room.”

“There’s more room in there than there is in here,” she challenges.

“But people don’t come in and out of Ramsey’s hut all day, and with as many beds that are in the longhouse, there’s no room for me to work.”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure it out.” She bends, grabbing the frayed edge of a weave and yanking.

“Let it go!” I bat her hand, but she grabs harder, pulling it toward her and undoing a large section of stitches.

Tears flood my eyes as I watch my work tear.

She throws the weave into a basket and goes to the work I have piled in a corner.

“Don’t touch those!”

“Then perhaps move a little faster. So I don’t have to do everything myself.”

“Why are you doing this?” I demand, lunging forward to place myself between Amber and the weaves.

“Because Ramsey doesn’t want you here,” she hisses.

“If Ramsey wanted me gone, he wouldn’t send you. He’d tell me himself.”

“Hasn’t he before?”

He has, and she knows it. The entire village does.

“I’m working on?—”

“Your precious weaves when we have furs and hides and other things to keep us warm.”

My mouth gapes open because what she’s saying is true. I’ve thought it before. The only reasonable explanation for what I’m doing is so that I don’t get in the way of the tribe as they do more important things.

Still, even if it’s not necessary, it’s my job. My duty.

Amber pushes past me with the basket, grabbing my weaves and throwing them inside.

“I have to hand it to you, I didn’t expect you to be so bold.”

“Bold?”

“Making a play for Ramsey.” She chuckles sardonically.

“What are you talking?—”

The conversation at the table comes back to me.

Curse Kairi and Violet for their reckless chatter.

Amber turns with the basket. I grab the rim.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You have to.”

“Because you say?”

“Because according to the rules of Penticari courtship, which the Tempest men have agreed to, it’s improper for you to be here while Ramsey is courting me.”

My hand falls away, and she leaves with the basket full of my weaves in hand.

They’re a couple.

I should have known.

But why…why do what he did in the caves?

Was I just someone to practice on so he could impress her?

Maybe that’s why he was so angry at my request to search for bugs. He didn’t want to be away from her.

A squeaking sound catches my attention, and I see Harold scurry over to me, climbing onto my foot.

I pick him up, giving his head a pat. “I’ve missed you.”

He runs onto my shoulder, hiding under the outer layer of my clothes, near my back.

Instead of going to the longhouse, I head over to Elena’s tent and ring the bell.

“Come in,” she calls.

She looks exhausted, and I loathe bringing her my problems when she has so many of her own.

But she’s going to want to know about Ramsey courting Amber.

She gestures to the pillow across from her, and I sit.

“Is something wrong?”

Deciding on a less-than-straightforward approach, I ask, “Is there something I could do that no one else wants to?”

Her brow pinches. “What do you mean?”

I lift my shoulders, shrugging. “I don’t know, like instead of taking turns cleaning the privy, maybe that could be my job. And I can haul trash to the pits each day.”

“But your job is to weave.”

“You know as well as I do that it’s not what our tribe needs.”

She sighs. “I know dealing with Ramsey is hard?—”

“It’s not him.”

“Then where did this come from?”

“We have furs and hides and methods for making clothes and blankets that don’t involve me toiling with threads for long hours.”

“Just as we have jennlenut milk, water, bone broth, intoxicants, and athelial bloom tea to sip upon. We do not get rid of the tea because we have broth. We drink them all?—”

“But my time would be better spent elsewhere.”

“Does this have anything to do with the village chatter regarding you and Ramsey?”

My cheeks flush with heat.

“You know, just as I do, it’s typical for maidens to talk. I may not be noble-blooded, but I grew up in a castle, the same as you, and every single one is full of whispers.”

“Imagine how Ramsey will react when he gets wind of what’s being said.”

“I imagine he’ll just continue to act like Ramsey,” she says with a chuckle.

“I suppose he will, but it’s more than that.” I take a deep breath and force myself to say what I’d been dreading. “Apparently, he’s courting Amber.”

Her brow skews. “No, he’s not.”

“Then why is she moving into his hut?”

Her face pales. “But he had sharp words for her upon returning to the village.”

“Perhaps him having to live with the weakest of us gave him some perspective.”

“Stop saying things like that,” she snaps.

“Regardless, since he’s now courting her, it would be inappropriate for me to continue living with him.”

Elena sighs, bowing her head. “And here I thought things would get easier.”

“Perhaps Ramsey will be happier now that…you know.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will be, but it’s not that I’m worried about. Even after being humbled, Amber craves power and has already started to act up. Now I have to worry what she’ll whisper into Ramsey’s ear.”

“He wouldn’t betray Grixis, would he?”

“After getting to know him a little better, I’d say no, but if he thought for a moment that Grixis wasn’t a proper leader, he’d demand he step down.” Her eyes scan up to mine. “Which could divide the tribe.”

“I understand your concern, but despite how much I loathe her, she’s not the same as she was before she stormed off into the forest. Though the way she threw me out of Ramsey’s hut makes me wonder if that is true.”

“What do you mean, threw you out?”

“She grabbed my weaves, ripping one, threw them in a basket, and hauled them to the longhouse.”

“Amber did that?”

“Yeah.”

Her head cocks to the side. “Don’t you think that’s a little odd?”

I shrug. “I guess, but after yesterday, I don’t think Ramsey wants to be around me.”

“When you doused yourself in spice?”

“Yes,” I huff.

“Kairi said he seemed very concerned when he brought you into the cleric’s hut.”

“I think he just knew that if I were injured, it’d take longer for me to finish my weaves.”

“Hm.” Elena licks her lips, looking nervous.

“What?”

“Something doesn’t sit right with me. The chatter this morning…”

“About me spicing myself up in hopes of enticing Ramsey?” I roll my eyes. “Remind me to thank Violet.”

Elena smirks. “I have to admit, it was Nori-level logic, and for a moment, it got me thinking.”

“Are you saying you believed it?”

“No, but as you can imagine, I had questions.” She frowns. “But with the Ramsey-Amber development, there’s no point in asking them anymore.”

Do I tell her what happened? Of all the people on the island, I trust Elena the most. But what if she blames me for Ramsey and Amber’s new relationship?

If it were to come out another way, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility with Amber, things could go poorly for me.

I have no choice but to tell her.

“Elena?”

“Yes?”

“Promise you won’t be mad…”

She sighs. “Promise you won’t give me a reason to be mad.”

“Can’t do that.”

She gives an exaggerated motion with her hand. “Go on.”

“Ramsey kept telling me I smelled, so I started using the men’s soap, because it was more potent, but he still complained.” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s why I rubbed the strongest spice into my skin, one I knew he liked.”

“That…an interesting choice.”

“I was desperate. Every night, he’d come home moody, yelling as he does, and I was fearful for Harold.”

“Who’s Harold?”

“Never mind, he’s fine.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“After putting the spice on, I spoke with Nori, telling her my reasons for rubbing it onto my flesh, and she suggested Ramsey might actually enjoy my scent, which makes him mad because he believes me so weak.”

“Interesting…”

“Later, he came home, and I told him what I’d done. He panicked and rushed me to the cleric’s tent. They gave me a salve to bathe with, and Ramsey took me to the cave.”

“That makes sense.”

“I thought so too, but he didn’t leave me there. He insisted on getting in the water with me…”

“Wait—what?” Her eyes bulge with interest.

“One thing led to another…and we did some things…not everything?—”

Elena’s hand flies to her mouth; her eyes widen further.

“As soon as he was done, he left, and has hardly said a word to me since except to refuse to take me out looking for bugs.”

“Excuse me? But did you just say looking for bugs?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

Elena drags her fingers slowly through her raven-black hair. “I have to say, you were the very last person I expected to be embroiled in these antics.”

“You have to believe me—I never intended for anything like this to happen.”

“Oh, I know, which makes it all the more impressive.”

“Maybe he was practicing so he could properly court Amber—which is just weird. Or perhaps he was disgusted by me, which is why he stormed off afterward.”

“I’m inclined to think otherwise.” Elena giggles. “And…I’m not sure Amber was telling the truth.”

“Care to explain?”

“Amber was given the worst job of all the Penticari—tanning hides. It entails dipping skins in urine, and it’s hard to wash the scent off at the end of the day.”

My nose scrunches. “Ew.”

“After a day of it, she’s been more flirty around the men, and if I had to guess, she’s trying to get one of them to take her in.”

“Looks like Ramsey took the bait.”

“Or, he didn’t, and she’s playing one of her games.”

“Would she do that?”

“She wants a man with power, and Ramsey is on the council. I think in her own obnoxious way, she’s trying to show him she’s strong and worthy, not understanding it makes her look desperate.”

I mull over Elena’s theory, wondering if it could be true. Amber isn’t above lying to get what she wants. But would she want Ramsey?

If it meant she would no longer have to work with vats of urine, I’m sure she would.

“You may not realize this, but you’ve proven your strength,” Elena says without a hint of mockery.

“How?”

“You’ve enticed the most outspoken against us with your charms, which is no easy feat.”

“But he didn’t like it.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No. He just left.”

“If he didn’t like it, he’d not hesitate to tell you, just as he didn’t hesitate to say you smelled. He left because he did like it, and he didn’t want to.”

I think over all the interactions I’ve had with Ramsey, and can’t help but feel she might be right.

Elena reaches over, folding her hand over mine. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but your spice-covered flesh may have done more to integrate our tribe than anything else we’ve done short of Grixis getting me pregnant.”

It’s impossible not to laugh, and it feels good to see Elena smiling back at me, thinking I’m more than just a burden.

“What exactly are you asking of me?”

“Take your weaves, go back to Ramsey’s hut, and stand your ground?—”

“But—”

“It’s an order, and no, I can’t help you, and neither can Meg nor any of the others. You have to do this, and others need to see it.”

I nod, knowing that she’s right.

I can’t be the mouse I once was. Not here. Not when so much is at stake.

“Fine, but if this goes sideways, I’ll no longer be offering to clean the privy.”