Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,38

a week from now she was going to find out.

Field of Vision

“There is strength in the darkness, if you are strong enough to take it.”

— Quinn Darkova, former slave, hopeful-murderess, somewhat willing vassal of House Fierté

Quinn stared straight ahead, arms crossed and chin bobbing with the steady clomp of hooves. Strong masculine arms brushed against hers as Lazarus guided the horse, temperamental creature that it was. Days had passed, and still every time she came near it the damned thing snorted in derision. It was only the man that sat behind her, holding the reins, that even convinced it to not put up a fight every time Quinn mounted. Not long ago he’d told her that she could ride or run. Some days she wondered if running was the lesser of the evils, and then she took a look down or up the hills and kept her grumbles to herself.

What she really wanted was her own steed.

“You did say that riding with me would be a concession,” Lazarus said as if reading her mind. She continued to ignore his subtle attempts at talking. When she wanted to be chatty, he was silent, but now that she preferred the quiet over having to hear Lorraine and Draeven, he wanted to chat. She couldn’t understand it. The man made no sense.

“I’m on the horse, aren’t I?”

She couldn’t see him, but she felt that subtle shake of his head.

“Through no effort of your own,” he remarked lightly.

“It’s not my fault this beast hates me,” she harrumphed. “Besides, I would have preferred a horse of my own.”

Lazarus shook his head. “You can hardly ride,” he sighed.

“I would have managed.” Maybe.

It was becoming increasingly clear that horses weren’t fond of her in general. While Bastian, Lazarus’ steed, was the most opposed, the other three also kept their distance from her. She wondered if it was her magic. If she was so far gone that she couldn’t tell that it was leaking out, but if that were the case there was no way Lorraine or Draeven would act as they did.

Halfway through the last few days, she began to wonder if demanding to ride with Lazarus had been a mistake, but every time she thought about being put back with Lady Manners or Lord Sunshine, she immediately recalled those nights alongside Lorraine and being forced to listen as she ‘educated’ her on the correct way to sit in a saddle with Master Lazarus. Quinn shook her head. She was learning to handle small doses being near that woman, but longer than a few hours and she might happily commit murder.

A few more hours passed, and the sun set beyond the horizon. Lazarus directed his horse off of the road and through the tree line with Draeven, Dominicus, and Lorraine following silently behind. They stopped at a clearing in the woods and Lazarus swung a leg back, sliding down the saddle and off the horse, leaving Quinn to get down on her own.

Grumbling to herself and shooting a glare at his retreating back, she swung her leg over and moved to dismount with as much pride as she could muster and held onto it even when the balls of her feet struck slippery ground. Her legs locked, threatening to send her sliding in the mud.

“Potes,” she muttered under her breath, casting a wary glance at the party.

Draeven and Dominicus gave her strange looks and Lorraine only shook her head, probably determining by her tone that she had said something ‘vulgar.’ She would be correct in this case, not that Quinn volunteered that information.

“Lorraine, Dominicus—set up camp. Quinn—” Lazarus turned just as she righted herself. Bastian snorted, clicking his teeth and startling her. She growled, grasping the saddle in a death grip. Lazarus lifted an eyebrow. “You and Draeven come with me.”

He turned on his heel, leaving her to follow him into the woods.

Muttering under her breath, Quinn huffed. “Yes, your highness.”

Draeven fell into line beside her. “You’re not far off,” he said with a chuckle.

“What?” Quinn eyed the other man warily.

Draeven shook his fair head. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Quinn sighed in frustration, but didn’t reply as they followed behind Lazarus, moving farther into the forest and away from the campsite. She was beginning to wonder if the man was planning on walking them right off a cliff when he stopped and turned.

“We’re going to train,” he announced.

Draeven moved to the side and mumbled something she couldn’t hear. Confused, Quinn turned on him. “What are you doing?”