Page 75 of Of Sword & Silver

I have a feeling Morrow’s not the type to give up easily, though.

“How’s your shoulder?” Caedia asks, handing me a wine skin.

“It’s sore, but fine, really.” I take a swig from the skin and flavor explodes across my mouth. “By Sola’s fingers, this is incredible.” It’s like summer dances down my throat.

“Of course it is. I’m a dryad.” She rolls her eyes at me, then wiggles her fingers. “Let me take a look at it.”

I turn towards her, obedience coming much easier with the strawberry wine in my mouth, and pull the blouse over my head. I fold it neatly on the green cloak next to me, chilly in my chemise alone.

“Ooh, it looks like it’s doing well, really,” Caedia says happily, cold fingers pressing at it gently.

“You couldn’t do that in a tent?” the Sword rumbles from across the fire.

“Oh, did you want her to learn to see in the dark? Would that be more reasonable?” I bark.

Lara and Morrow’s quiet conversation stops at our sharp words.

“You two need to get along,” Morrow finally says. “We have a long road ahead, and picking at her won’t make it any easier, Sword.”

“Picking at her?” The Sword stands up, his handsome face bathed in shadow despite the warm firelight. “You think I’m picking at her?”

“The girl needs medical help. I don’t see why you’re making a big deal of it. Don’t look if it bothers you,” Morrow tells him, gallant even in the face of the Sword’s ire.

He rises in my esteem even more. I smile at him.

“Oh, it’s fine, Morrow,” I tell him sweetly, knowing exactly what to say that will piss off the Sword even more. “He can’t stand the sight of my bare skin because it reminds him of how much he liked touching it just a few days ago.”

“Fucking hells,” the Sword swears, turning his wrath on me.

I smile sweetly up at him. Caedia studiously ignores the drama, tending to the dressing on my shoulder instead.

“It’s true, isn’t it? Or is the sight of my bare shoulders really that offensive to you?” I wink, pulling down the strap of my chemise so it hangs off my good shoulder.

“Kyrie,” Lara says, a warning in her voice. “Stop. Morrow is right. Stop aggravating him. And you, Sword, leave her alone, for fuck’s sake.”

Mushroom whinnies loudly in agreement, breaking some of the tension.

“Traitor,” I mutter. If the Sword wants a fight, I’ll give him a fight.

Caedia tightens the bandage and I suck in a breath. Maybe we should fight tomorrow, though, because I’m not sure I’d win tonight. Unless I played dirty.

“Caedia,” I say innocently. “When do you think I can use my daggers again?”

“At the rate this is healing, tomorrow, I’d think.”

“Kyrie, don’t you dare,” Lara sighs.

“Sword, how about we train tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t train with the likes of you.”

I bark a laugh, glaring at the knight of death and assholes across the fire. “Why? You know I would kick your ass?”

“I know you’d cheat to win, and I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

I stand up, swigging from the strawberry wine, then hand it back to Caedia, who seems highly entertained by everything. Good. I do so love a captive audience.

I cross to where the Sword’s standing, glowering at me like his entire being depends on it.

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