Page 125 of The Threadbare Queen

Luc looked down at the twist of bark on his palm. “Yes, it does.”

Chapter 30

Ava watched from the trees as Luc and Kikir walked over to Baclar, crouching in front of him.

The conversation was short. Bartholomew helped his boss up, calling to soldiers in the Jatan front line for help.

Three of them ran forward, one to take Baclar’s other side, the others to assist Tuart, and after a short while, a man and a woman strode through the Jatan army from the back, both wearing robes rather than the trousers and jackets of the soldiers, to bend over the four surviving councillors.

Ava had done all she could for them. Three would definitely make it, but the oldest survivor, a grizzled man with white hair and dark eyes, might not.

She tried to make peace with the fact.

He would find the strength to fight, or he would decide his time had come.

She turned away, picking through the forest to where she’d left her horse.

She moved silently, and was glad she had when she found Deni and Taira waiting beside her horse.

She pulled off her cap and stuffed it into the inner pocket of her coat before she strode toward them, making more noise.

“Thank goodness.” Taira leaned back against a tree, obviously relieved to see her. “We hid in the forest when we heard horses, but Deni went to look and says it’s the Skäddar?”

Ava nodded. “I was watching the situation with the Jatan, hoping to help, but then Kikir and his friends arrived and tipped the balance in our favor.”

Deni nodded. “The Jatan saw the wisdom in stepping back from hostilities, before they would be forced to surrender.”

“True.” Ava gave it some thought. “They’re in a better position now than if they’d attacked. But it was close.”

“Very close.” Deni sounded a little shaky.

“Well, let’s go see our old friends.” Ava let herself smile. “It’s been hard to watch instead of standing with them.”

They led their horses out into the open, and Ava smiled at the guards who turned their arrows on them, faces set.

“They remind me of you, Deni. The first time we met.” She lifted a hand and waved.

Rafe walked toward them, face stern, and she laughed as he nearly stumbled when he realized who it was.

“What are you—?” He stopped, mouth open, and signaled to the guards to lower their bows.

Her gaze skipped over him, though, because Luc was walking toward her, face unreadable, although she sensed a tension in him.

She didn’t understand it, but it didn’t matter, he was here, he was unharmed, and they were together again.

Nothing else mattered.

She dropped her reins, knowing Deni would take them, and moved toward him.

Crouching over the poison victims, and the energy it had taken to embroider the flowers, had made her stiff. Not to mention the hard ride they had made to get here. She was dismayed to find that she wasn’t able to move as fast as she wanted to.

She almost fell into his arms, despite the fact that they had spoken, touched, just half an hour before.

She thought she was done with tears, but she found that wasn’t true.

It was so unlike her, she kept her face pressed against his shirt, and if he felt the damp evidence against his skin, he said nothing, content to brush one hand down her back and hold her close with the other.

They were left alone.

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