Page 61 of The Flame and the Forsaken

Erran grinned and lifted his mug to hers. “And getting to know one another.”

Her eyes locked with his as they both went to take sips and seal the toast. Something compelled her to hold the gaze, and neither did he look away. To ease the flutter in her chest, she smiled and turned back toward the fire. “It smells amazing. Thank you.”

“Amazing? If I made this back in Whitecliffe, the kitchen staff would draw and quarter me.” He chuckled. “No salt. No spices. Just.. fennel. But it will fill our bellies, aye?”

Mariel nudged her shoulder against his. “It will taste amazing because we worked for it. It wasn’t handed to us.”

Erran stared into the flames with a drowsy expression. “Aye. We did.” He pushed forward off the log, withdrew the stick that had eight dripping pieces of meat, and brought it back to them.

She reached for one and he made atsksound.

“You want to add burns to your growing list of injuries?”

She pouted, withdrawing.

“Thought not.” He blew on a piece dangerously close to falling off the end of the stick, tapped it with his finger, and pulled it off. He lifted it to Mariel’s mouth, his own amusement at the act a reflection of hers.

“I haven’t had anyone feed me since I was a bairn.” She laughed but still found her mouth opening for him, her tongue making space for the meat. His finger scraped her teeth as he withdrew, still watching her... waiting. The explosion of juices in her mouth had her eyes rolling back, a moan escaping.

“That good, aye? Would you like a moment to yourself?” He laughed and blew on a second piece, taking it for himself.

“Aye, I would. Just, ah, give me the rest of the stick and?—”

Erran swatted her side, making her giggle. She finished her whiskey, belched, and thrust the mug out toward him. It had been ages since she’d enjoyed spirits, but if there was ever a time to let go, it was a night like this.

“Demanding woman,” he muttered and refilled her.

“Aye, but you like it.”

“Uh,nay.”

“Esta Garrick and Yesenia Warwick would beg to differ.” She regretted the words immediately, because they hadn’t been spoken in good faith. Bringing the past and other women into an otherwise pleasant evening felt like breaking an unspoken rule. “I’m sorry. I was out of order.”

“Nay... nay. You’re right.” Erran returned his gaze to the fire with a deep inhale. “Mariel, you remember how you accused me of working my way through the lasses at the Spires?”

Mariel sputtered in embarrassment. That, too, belonged to another life, another time. “I shouldn’t have. Wasn’t my business.”

“It was untrue anyway.” He rolled his tongue along the inside of his lips. “Esta and Yesenia are the only women... I ken I just don’t have carousing in me the way Khallum does. The way Hamish did, before he met Yanna. It seems like it could be fun, and I ken itshouldbe, and then I look at a woman and think, that’s nay how I want this to be. Pleasure under the shame of secrecy is no pleasure at all. Not for me.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” she said slowly, though she was hanging on every word. Shewantedhim to share more of himself.

“Esta, we were both so young, and it was... Aye, it was a blunder, let’s just leave it there.” He chuckled to himself, lost in a memory he didn’t share. “Yesenia was no blunder, but you never see things as they are until they’re done, do you?”

Mariel swallowed. Something about hearing Yesenia’s name on his tongue made her uncomfortable. “Aye, there’s truth in that.”

“Mariel.” He handed her another piece of meat and propped the stick against the spit. “Will you tell me more about what you and your brother and the others were doing? Not the... the parts youcan’ttell me, but there must be parts you can.”

She clenched in defense, drawing the blanket tighter. Her throat was scratchy and dry when she responded with a suspicious “why?”

He turned sideways on the log to face her. “I’m not trying to trick you. Out here, who would listen? But even if they find us and bring us home, I would never... I just want to understand you better.”

“I see.” Mariel eyed the meat in her hands. “What do you want to know?”

“You said you were on your own after your parents... after they died of malnutrition. Was it money?”

Mariel scoffed. With highborns, it was always about money, always so simple. “Gold was scarce, but even more scarce were greens and fruits. The lake district had always been so fertile, and I ken... More powerful men wanted it for themselves. It was your father and his thug barons who imposed a steep tax on the food.Ourfood. We grew it, cultivated it, toiled over it, and then suddenly found ourselves unable to afford to eat it.” She stared into her mug, watching the amber liquid ripple as she swished it. “And without proper nutrients, a person can only survive so long before their body turns on itself.”

Erran went quiet. His mouth parted slightly, a gentle breath the only sound. “I had no... I had no idea.”

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