kiss her and claim that they were married without her knowledge or permission. Her brothers had trashed half a dozen presumptuous young men for less.
Her brothers. What would they think? Were they looking for her? Were they even alive?
I just won’t tell them. They don’t need to know.
But Lillian would know. The water goddess knew all. And she demanded absolute purity during a marriage ceremony, symbolized by her stark-white fur. “As the spring rises up from the earth, clear and pure as the morning rays, so too must a new marriage be pure.”
Sickness sloshed in Kira’s stomach. Surely this didn’t count. It wasn’t her choice. Surely there was mercy and understanding for victims.
But was she truly a victim, since she should never have put herself in this situation in the first place?
Kira buried her head in the pillow in an attempt to escape the barrage of accusations within her own head. It was just a kiss. And maybe it wasn’t even a real kiss, because it didn’t seem like he enjoyed it. Would that invalidate it somehow?
She paused. Had he enjoyed it?
Kira sprang from the bed with a snarl. She yearned to rage against Ryon, which was normally so easy to do. Why wasn’t it working now, when she had more to be angry about than ever?
But all she felt was guilt, as if blame for everything sat squarely on her shoulders.
She rubbed her eyes as she strode to the side door. Maybe she was just tired. Perhaps the d’hakka’s sedative hadn’t worn off yet, or perhaps she’d had enough adventure for a lifetime within the past few sun cycles.
The door opened to reveal what looked like an outhouse, but inside. She recognized what must be the toilet, but three strange metal prongs stuck out from the wall above a large bowl with a hole in the bottom. On the back wall, a similar setup hung above a small grate surrounded by river stones embedded into the floor.
Kira cautiously approached the bowl and gasped at the clearest reflection of herself she’d ever seen. A hanging mirror above the basin was so smooth it made the surface of a still pond seem like mud.
She blinked back at the bags under her eyes and hollow depths to her cheeks. Her dark skin seemed paler than it should have been, besides the puffy red rimming her azure eyes. She looked more like her mother then she would ever want to admit.
I’m not dead yet. But if Ryon tries that again, so help me, he will be.
Kira plucked pine needles, twigs, and bits of silk from her hair as she tried to make sense of the grate in the bottom of the bowl in front of her. Why would anyone put a hole in the bottom of the water basin? Where was the bathtub? And where did they get their water from?
She remembered her ankle and felt silly for it being double-wrapped. It really didn’t hurt much when she walked now, despite all logic. Maybe bone-knit really did do all that Granny had proclaimed.
Her last throwing knife sliced easily through the silk, and she discarded it like the dirty sock it smelled like. Underneath, Ryon’s splint hugged just a tad too tightly, keeping her joint in place but leaving her skin begging for air.
Kira cautiously sat on the floor and prompted a spike of pain as her ankle moved. Okay, so maybe it’s not quite back to normal yet. She unwound the ribbon of Ryon’s cloak. Aside from the grooves it had left in her skin, her ankle was well on its way to healing.
She brushed the dried leaves from her foot and stared at the cut of cloak on the floor. Ryon didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to give her his herbs, either. And he certainly didn’t have to escort her to Jadenvive. Especially after she’d shot him.
One second he’s kind, the next he’s a jackwagon. Kira rotated her ankle, testing its limits. She slowly stood and put her weight on the injured leg. As long as she kept the joint straight, it didn’t complain. Whatever he is, he’s dangerous. And I’m not going to underestimate him again.
The armoire held three outfits—one appeared to be for men and two others must have been women’s undergarments, because there was no way the semi-transparent scarlet swaths of fabric and gold filigrees could have been intended for outside wear. Or for any kind of work in general.