Ilsa
It was freaking cold in Lunwyn.
Freezing.
So I was glad when we made the inn, or more aptly, inside the inn, where a fire was roaring and Derrik got me a room, ordering, “Get the fire going in her chamber immediately,” and the innkeeper’s son scurried off.
This was, of course, as the innkeeper stared at me in shock.
Clearly, he knew or had seen Ilsa.
I smiled at him and dipped my eyes.
“She’ll need wine, some cheese, bread, fruit, a hot bath and a ladies maid,” Derrik kept going.
The innkeeper snapped his fingers and his wife (who was also staring at me), started then she took off too.
“I’ll escort her to her room. There will be a guard in the hall and outside the inn. Seven men. After I take her to her room, I ride to Karsvall,” Derrik went on.
The innkeeper nodded.
“Her key?” Derrik prompted.
The innkeeper jumped, turned and grabbed a skeleton key with a massive heart at its top. He turned back to Derrik and handed him the key.
“Best in the house, top floor, end of the hall to the right,” the innkeeper told Derrik.
Derrik nodded, put his hand to my elbow and moved me to the stairs.
I moved with him, trying not to cry.
It was over.
My time with the guys was over.
No more ricken. No more tuble.
No more games that were like jousts but they didn’t have lances and charge each other. They had blunt swords and beat each other off their horses. At first, I thought this was a little brutal. But then I noticed Laures was really good at it and everyone around me in the arena (with actual bleachers and enormous colorful pendants flying from posts all around) was really into it. So I got into it too. In a big way.
Also no more delicious, herbed, roasted meat on a stick bought from venders at fayres.
And no more watching girls dancing with streaming ribbons and fluffy skirts at festivals.
Further, no more telling Alek made-up pirate stories while we lay on our backs on the deck of the ship, rough wool blankets under us, another one pulled up to our chins, as we stared up at the stars.
We were in Lunwyn, met by someone the men didn’t introduce me to who gave us a trunk with more stuff for me. This included boots, heavier clothing and capes, hats and gloves—the last three all made of fur or lined hides.
And off the horse I was, put in a sleigh (a sleigh! And a cool one!) with my trunk at the back and we’d ridden for three days across the icy landscape.
I had to admit, it was just as beautiful as the graceful exquisiteness of Fleuridia and the sumptuous splendor of Hawkvale.
It was just covered in snow and ice.
And freezing cold.
Now it was done and I’d had four months to come up with my plan, which I’d done.
It scared me but it also excited me.