Page 20 of The Warlord’s Princess (Warlords of Tempest #3)

ASHA

The last time I remember feeling this giddy, it was because I was excited to see my father. My true father and not the one I was forced upon.

I stood in a crowd of others, excitedly waving at him, sure he would spot me and bring me with him.

But as he looked over me, refusing to part with even a smile or a nod, the joy I’d felt washed away, leaving behind a hollowness that’s grown over the years.

Which is why my glee begins to twist into dark, haunting thoughts.

Because that hollowness wasn’t created on its own. It was born out of joy.

Ramsey has yet to properly court me, and if I had to guess, I’d say he’s not intending to. And I don’t know what that makes me to him.

I’d be a fool to expect him to have real and true feelings toward me, as it’s much more likely that he needed reprieve.

But what if he wants more than just relief, but not so much as to make an honest woman out of me, as the matrons back home would say? He could easily take my maidenhood, giving me nothing in return except snide remarks.

The sad part is, I’d take any small part of him.

Araelya jogs alongside me. “You did well this morning.”

Forcing my dour thoughts from my mind, I laugh. “No, I didn’t.”

“Considering how you did the first session, I’d say significant progress was made.”

“You really think so?”

“You were able to make it through all the exercises without your arms giving out, which is a first.”

“Thanks.”

As I go to break my fast, I see that many of the other maidens who’d previously avoided me are now smiling in my direction.

As I sit, Arwin jabs my ribs and casts me a sly smile.

“Why is everyone being so nice to me?”

“Last night, at the longhouse, Amber tried stirring drama, as she does, and we’d finally had enough. Everyone said their piece, and by the end of it, she was bawling, huddled in a corner, crying to be left alone.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“People saw you, how angry you were, how you stood up for yourself, and figured if you could do it, so could they.”

I snort out a laugh. “Yeah, if weak Asha can do it…” I roll my eyes.

“I guess that sounded wrong.”

“No, it sounded exactly how it should have.” I shrug. “I’m not mad about it.”

As I eat, others ask me about my weaves, telling me how the ones I’ve already finished are making their beds more comfortable.

Inwardly, I bloom at the praise, because it’s not often anyone thinks I’m of use for anything.

When we’re done, and the others break away to start work, I see Elena waddling towards her tent and jog to catch up with her.

“Elena?” I call, jogging over to her.

She turns, her brow lifted in question.

“I was hoping we could talk for a minute.”

“Is this about your weaves?”

“Well, it wasn’t, but we need to talk about those, too.”

“What’s on your mind?”

I look around, making sure no one is listening. “It’s Ramsey…I don’t know what to make of what’s going on between us.”

Leaning toward me, she whispers, “Have you done more?”

I nod. “Not everything, but more.”

“Has he given you a gift or stated his intentions to you?”

“No…”

She frowns.

“That’s a bad sign, isn’t it?”

“That depends on if you want him to court you.”

“He’s been terrible, yet…” I sigh. “If only I weren’t so weak, maybe then he might want me.”

“It may not be you. Not all the men will choose courtship.”

“Then why would he…eh-hem…do things at all?”

“Physical release is a powerful motivator to men, so expect him to want more of that. Just…know what it is.”

“And what it’s not,” I say glumly.

“Asha,” she cups my cheek, “I can see that your heart aches, but Ramsey isn’t worth your feelings. There are more men here than women, and I suspect you won’t have a problem finding a mate, if that’s what you want.”

“I hate the word mate.”

She shrugs. “It’s catchy.”

“Well, I highly doubt many of the Tempest men will want to mate with me.”

“I think you’re wrong. We’ve won many of them over, and they’re just now getting comfortable with the idea of courtship.”

While she’s not wrong, I doubt any of the men will look to me.

A whimsical giggle captures my attention, and I look over to see Araelya and Elric walking together.

“If only I were more like her,” I whisper. “Maybe then Ramsey wouldn’t be so hesitant.”

Elena gives me a soft smile. “I like you just the way you are.”

“No one else does.”

“May I be nosy?”

“Sure.”

“Do you even think Ramsey is capable of making you happy?”

“Does it even matter? We have to mate with these men regardless of our happiness.”

“Meg and I are both elated with our big blue men, and many others are, too.” She nods in Araelya’s direction.

“Ramsey is rough around the edges, and more grumpy than anyone has a right to be. Maybe it would be best for you to get to know a few of the other men before resigning yourself to the worst of them.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way, and now I can’t help but wonder if there is truth in her concern.

Even if Ramsey does accept me as a mate, he would never dote on me the way Grixis does Elena, or adore me as Eddard does Meg. He’d tolerate me.

“I…I don’t know…”

“I’m just saying, before you commit to the village grump, take some time and think about what you want, and what would make you happy.”

No one in this village knows what they want better than me. It’s what I’ve wanted for over a decade, and has never once changed.

And that’s to be loved.

I’ve had it only briefly in my earliest years, when my mother still walked this earth.

And sadly, I don’t believe Ramsey is capable of making me feel that way.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“If you don’t mind, I need to make sure Amber isn’t causing a fuss.”

I return to Ramsey’s hut, mulling over the advice Elena gave me. Hating that I feel so lost.

It’s unfair to expect Ramsey to ever love me. That was never what this was about. And it’s not like I would have found love back in Penticar. My adoptive father would have eventually married me off to someone with no regard for my happiness, because there was never any love between us.

A knock sounds on the door. It’s Nori holding a basket overflowing with thread.

I reach inside the basket to make sure there’s nothing else in there. “How were you able to spin all this so quickly?”

“Once I start something, I’m quick to get it done.”

“I can see.” I set the basket aside. “So, did you find anything out about the dyed threads?”

“Not yet, but I haven’t had a chance to look.”

“What do you think you’ll find?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m hoping to discover what is making the colors appear to move.”

“How will you do that?”

“I have multiple lenses I plan on using, to make the threads appear larger.”

“I swear, you’re like a litterateur.”

“You’re not the first to say that, and Elena has already asked me to tutor the children that will eventually come.”

“I think the entire village would agree that there is no better person for the job.”

She frowns. “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the noise.”

“Just make sure you don’t pick a mate close to Elena and Meg.”

She shifts uncomfortably, and I regret bringing up the word mate.

With much to be done, I lift the basket. “This ought to keep me busy. Thanks again.”

“Will you be going out with Ramsey for more bugs?”

“I asked if he’d bring me out, but he said no.”

“Dogan and I will be leaving the village for a few days to explore further inland, to help with the map I’m making. You could come with us. Dogan is getting our route approved with Grixis right now. Apparently, there are whispers that travel might be restricted.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude?”

“On your trip. With Dogan.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” she deadpans.

Bless her heart, she really doesn’t know…

As I’m about to tell her I’m too busy to leave, I recall Elena’s advice.

Whatever fantasies I have of Ramsey are just that—fantasies. The reality of him is cold, harsh, and brutal. There will be no smiles of affection from him, or kind words when I’m feeling down.

There will be talk of honor and weakness, and I’ll never feel like I’m enough.

Traveling will force my mind from him, and perhaps, when I return, the men will see me in a new light, and I’ll no longer look so weak.

“I guess maybe I should go.”

She nods curtly. “Pack a bag. We’ll be leaving before first light.”

After she’s left, I gather a needle, thread, and a weaving board for when we’re camped, shoving them and a change of clothes in a linen tote I made for myself. Then, I start weaving more bedding.

It’s near evening when Ramsey finally returns, looking deeply troubled. Probably regretting what happened between us.

I catch him watching me out of the corner of his eye, his expression hard, his muscles tense.

Perhaps my leaving, if only for a few days, will come as a relief to him.

“I’m going with Dogan and Nori to seek out the bugs that I need to make the dye.”

Without pause, he says, “No, you are not.”

My head snaps up from my weave so I can look at him.

“Yes, I am.”

“You have no need to go with them.”

“I know my weaves mean nothing to you, but I’m doing what’s requested of me by my chieftain and yours—so I’m going, and you have no right to tell me no.”

“You misheard me.”

“Did not!” I snap.

“I did not mean to say you could not go.”

“You’re saying I should go without Dogan and Nori?” I scoff.

“Yes.”

“I’d be a fool to traverse the forest alone.”

“You will not be alone.” He grabs a bag, placing a pair of trousers and a shirt inside. “You will be going with me.”