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Noin awoke slowly, stimuli hitting her senses one by one.
Her shoulder hurt.
She was too warm, too close to the fire.
The young man sitting on the other side of the fire had his
ice-blue eyes fixed on her intently.
She tried to push herself into a sitting position.
That hurt too.
“No, don’t try to get up,” he said, standing up and moving a
little closer.
Noin looked at her left shoulder, afraid of what she might
see. But it was neatly bandaged with strips of clean white cloth.
“I guess you know then,” she said softly.
“Good guess.”
She was pretty flat-chested to begin with, or else she’d
never have been able to pull this off at all. But the long strips of
cloth she’d used to flatten herself further were a dead giveaway.
She sat up again, holding the cloak thrown on top of her
tightly to herself. Zechs’ cloak. It had
to be, since she was laying on her own.
“Please relax. You might open the wound again.”
“I figured it would happen sooner or later,” she said
quietly.
“Opening the wound?” he asked blankly.
She laughed, then stopped.
That hurt too.
She’d been afraid of this. Afraid of who would find
out. Afraid of who he would tell. Afraid of what he would ask in
exchange for not telling.
“I…I’m going to take enough provisions for a day, and … go…”
she said shakily.
Where? she asked herself.
Away, she answered.
“I can’t let you do that. You’re injured,” he said,
looking compassionate. “And… you saved my life,” he added quietly.
“And you saved mine. Neither of us owes the other
anything.”
“Noin,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I swore to
protect you. Just as you protected me.”
“Look…I appreciate the sentiment, but…”
“You don’t trust me,” he finished, smiling.
“That about sums it up,” she responded, with a nod.
“In what respect? You don’t
think that I won’t turn you in?”
“Okay, we’ll go with that one…” Noin said dubiously.
“I give you my word,” he told her solemnly.
She snorted.
“…as a member of the House of Peacecraft,” he continued,
drawing his sword, “and a prince of the
Noin, her dark cobalt eyes wide, was suddenly aware of the
bright gem at the pommel of his fine sword, and the aristocratic lines of his
beautiful face.
“Your secret is safe with me,” he told her earnestly.
“And yours with me.”
Noin and Zechs stood awkwardly, not looking at eachother, in
the small inn room.
“I asked for two,” he said apologetically, “but the innkeeper
said he couldn’t spare the room.”
“Well, I’m going to sleep in the stable,” Noin said
decisively, wincing as she lifted her bag.
“No, you aren’t…” he started to protest.
“Yes, I am,” she
countered, her eyes flinty. Prince or not, if he thought…
He blushed. “But you’re injured, so you really ought to stay
inside. I’ll sleep in the stable.”
So he was going to be like that about it. “No, it was my idea, so I’m going to
sleep in the stable.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he told her, throwing the key to
the room at her as he closed the door behind him.
Making himself as comfortable as was physically possible on a
few bales of hay, Zechs threw his cloak over himself, and stared idly at the
rafters. And just where had his brain been sleeping the past few
hours? Or, the past few months?
He’d even taken note of all the evidence – her smaller hands,
her smooth face, her unnatural silence… He should’ve figured it out. What had kept him from even
considering the possibility? He was ashamed to admit it, but it was her
competence. She was the best archer he’d trained with – probably the best
archer in the kingdom. And she was…. well…she was a she. He’d
flattered himself to think he didn’t look down on women, and here was clear
evidence that he’d done so. He promised himself it wouldn’t happen
again. Not that Noin would let it…
He couldn’t help grinning at the thought. He liked the
girl – her forthright manner, the sense of humor. And she had saved his
life. Not just warned him, not just pushed him out of harm’s way – she’d taken
the arrow herself. And no matter what she said about the debt being
cleared, he would always be grateful. As dismal as life seemed sometimes,
he wasn’t ready for his to be over. The concept of death was more than he
wanted to consider. And yet, as a soldier, he ought to be thinking about
it.
“I just can’t die yet,” he said softly. Not while the
Imperial Governor held his tyrranical rule over the
Why was he kidding himself? It was he, and he alone who
wanted vengence. His parents would’ve wanted no part in it. He put
his hand on his sword hilt. It was a beautiful weapon, and an old one,
from generations ago, before the Peacecrafts earned their name.
Revenge aside, he couldn’t allow the
Noin stretched out on the narrow cot in the inn room.
It beat sleeping in the mud by a wide margin, anyway. Still, she wasn’t
entirely comfortable – it’d been a long time since she had been.
She would never
complain about corsets again. And aside from that, her shoulder still
hurt, too.
It wasn’t exactly as if she’d been expecting it to
stop. Maybe just hurt a little less? Was that so much to ask?
Apparently so. She knew she
should change the dressing, but there was no way she could do it one
handed. It was going to have to wait ‘till morning, when Zechs could help
her – which was more than a little embarrassing.
Noin knew she was lucky that Zechs was her “brother.”
He was so unwaveringly honorable. And beyond that, she couldn’t help feeling
that he was really a kind person. It might be foolish, but she felt she could
trust him. And it had been a long time since she’d trusted anyone.
Someone had been looking out for her when Zechs was made her partner.
But, for some reason, Lord Treize didn’t seem like the guardian angel type, and
she seriously doubted his Excellency
knew that there was a woman in his army. And if she could help it, he
never would. It was comforting to know that she would have Zechs’ help in
that.
None of which explained why the boy had to be so accursedly
good-looking.