Mark of Love (Love Mark #3) - Linda Kage Page 0,54

I’d been enjoying.

And she reached for my saddle pack.

Pausing, I arched an eyebrow. “Um… What’re you doing?”

“We need to slim this pack down,” she answered with a distracted frown, and she fumbled to untie the pull cord keeping it closed. “I’m not toting all this crap around kingdom-come a single day longer.”

I blinked over such a suggestion. “Nor would I ask you to,” I said. “As it’s my crap, I’ll tote it.”

Melaina sniffed as if I’d just suggested something absurd. “So you could fetch some weapon you no doubt have hidden away in some secret pocket and use it against us? I think not.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. Then I glanced toward Quilla to see if she also found Melaina’s claim to be as completely unfounded as I did. I’d been digging into my pack all morning as well as last evening without anyone saying a word. Why was she suddenly worried I had something harmful inside? This woman made no sense.

Besides…

With a confused laugh, I shook my head. “I fail to see why you two keep insinuating I’m the violent one here.” I hadn’t threatened anyone with a dagger as one of them had, hadn’t actually stabbed anyone as the other had, and I certainly hadn’t gotten into a knock-down-drag-out-kicking-screaming-punching-hair-pulling fight as they both had.

“Really?” Melaina questioned haughtily. “You fail to see, hmm? What about this, then?” Reaching into the opening, she pulled out two daggers, then a chain mace, a small hatchet after that, and a bow, along with some arrows. “I’ve no idea what this even is,” she announced, producing some throwing stars. “But I have no doubt it’s some kind of weapon too. Unless it’s part of a kinky sex toy. Ooh.” Finding metal wrist cuffs, she purred in appreciation and tucked them into the pocket of her cloak. “I’m keeping these, thanks.”

I ground my teeth, becoming a tad bit vexed as she continued to dump all my possessions out onto the ground—clothing, personal grooming items, and weapons alike.

Melaina sniffed. “A ratty, old second set of boots. Yeah, we don’t need these.”

“Having extra footwear around is always smart,” I muttered petulantly, wincing when mine landed in a puddle of mud. “What if the pair I’m wearing get wet or destroyed or stolen?”

“Well, no one would steal this pair, that’s for sure. And what is this?” She slowly drew my journal out into the open.

I stopped breathing, merely watching as she turned it this way and that, closely examining the leather cover, then the wax-dipped bindings on the spine that crisscrossed past each other in order to hold the inner pages inside. She plucked at the leather laces wrapped around it, binding it closed, and sniffed in disinterest.

“This is the worst excuse for a book as I’ve ever seen.”

And she tossed it haphazardly over her shoulder on top of the pile of the rest of my things as if it were nothing.

I stepped forward to intervene, only to stop myself. Inside those pages lay the writings of my entire life’s research. I had painstakingly detailed everything I had learned throughout my journey across the Outer Realms.

To me, it was probably the most important and valuable thing I owned. Nothing could replace it.

And her negligent treatment of the book did not sit well with me. But then I worried that if I put too much attention on protecting it, I would reveal its sentimental value, and thus target it for further torment.

I soon learned Melaina wasn’t the one I needed to worry about, though. Quilla looked over suddenly, her brown eyes alert with curiosity.

“Book?” she said. “Where?”

While Quilla set her baking bread aside and pushed to her feet to wander closer, curious to see what Melaina was picking through, I shook my head slowly, realizing what term both she and her aunt had just used to describe my journal.

“Wait, what did you just call it?” I had to ask to make sure I hadn’t heard them wrong.

Pausing, Melaina glanced at me. “What? The book?”

I nodded. “Yes. But how did you—?”

Attention snagged by Quilla when she leaned down and slowly picked my journal up, I released an unsteady breath, not sure what to think of her looking at the most personal thing I owned.

In all honesty, I would love to share my discoveries and research with my true love. It had taken me years to accumulate all the information I’d put in it. It was a point of pride and satisfaction with me. Of course, I’d want her to