Page 24 of Taken By the Shadow Prince

What a catch I am.

I finish getting my horse ready for the day, then shove my hands in my pockets as I stride over to Mavey. I watch as she skins an animal, her concentration wholly on the task before her. She doesn’t even look up at me when I ask, “What did that thing used to be?” It’s smaller than usual, but from the lumpiness of the sack beside her, I’d guess she caught more than one this morning.

“A squirrel,” she says, voice flat.

“You sound so excited,” I answer, trying to joke with her. “It must be a delicacy.”

“It’s actually a little gamey,” she tells me. “But not the worst.”

I drop down and pull a knife from where I keep it sheathed in my back pocket, and Mavey reaches into the sack and pulls one out for me. Helping her prepare our breakfast is perhaps the only time she acts like I’m not the scum on the bottom of her shoe. And then those rare moments in between, like last night, when she talked to me like she didn’t despise me.

She’s coming around, I think. Though, really, it’d be hard not to, after spending so much time around someone, right?

And after five years of that, we will surely have made some form of camaraderie, right?

I flick my eyes up to her before looking back down at the squirrel, a frown tugging at my lips.

With most people, maybe. But with Mavey, I’m starting to wonder if that’s enough time. She’s so distant, and purposefully so, if I had to guess. It’s aggravating. Surely, I can’t bethatbad of company. I’ve not heard any complaints thus far in my life.

Granted, it’s completely plausible that’s because most people I meet are terrified of me, and they wouldn’t dare say a word against me.

I fight the grimace that threatens to take over my face.

So maybe I’m not the most delightful person to exist. But there’s worse out there, right? Certainly, Elix is more unbearable than I am. And Diman, who rules his portion of Atheya with an iron fist and public executions.

Yes, I could definitely be worse.

But that really shouldn’t be the goal, should it?

I clear my throat to try out a pleasantry. “It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?”

Mavey simply grunts back a very noncommittal response.

Fair enough.

“Not a fan of small talk, are you?”

This time, not even a sound comes out of her. I huff out a breath and chew on the inside of my cheek. Whatwouldshe deem important enough to answer? If I asked her about herself, her life, would she answer?

Only one way to find out, I suppose.

“Do you have any family?”

The stretch of silence between us is so long that I think she’ll ignore that question, too.

But then Mavey says, “Yes. I do.”

Her tone is stiff enough to suggest she doesn’t want to say much more regarding the subject. Fair enough. I won’t push it.

I made some progress at least.

Such a small amount that calling it progress feels like a very large overstatement, but still.

Progress.

After breakfast, I finally ask Mavey, “Are you ready to go?”

She hesitates. Just a little, just enough to give away the nerves that hide behind the blank mask on her face. But then she nods and says, “Of course.” As if she’s been ready all morning.

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