Page 47 of A Baron of Bonds
Instead, I let him lead us around to different stalls on the busiest market street. He held my hand tightly at each one he stopped at, never acknowledging me there, but not letting go either.
At one point, I tried to yank my hand from his, but he seemed ready for the attempt and held it firmer still.
At least his hand was warm.
I sighed and studied what he purchased. So far, he seemed to be gathering supplies. He slung a satchel of fruit and bread over his shoulder. We stopped at a dairy shop built into the street where he bought three different kinds of cheese, talking friendlyall the while to the full-bosomed woman at the counter who didn’t seem to even notice me.
Irritated, I was pulled out from the shop’s entrance and pulled into another, this time filled with dresses and women’s undergarments. More curious than frustrated now, I watched as he caught the eye of the clerk and whispered something in her ear.
She grinned and looked at me, her brown eyes alight with what I could only call vulgarity. I pursed my lips and frowned at the back of his head, wanting to yank him around and demand he speak to me and explain what he was doing.
I huffed loudly, my attempt to gain his attention and favor unsuccessful as he ignored me. He brushed his free hand against several different warm, wool dresses as if he was considering their purchase, and I wished I was wearing one of them.
The woman returned from a back room, bringing a package wrapped in thick, brown paper and bundled in twine. He took coins from his pocket, depositing quite a few of them into her hands, and her eyes gleamed with excitement.
“What is that?” I couldn’t help but ask as we left, curiosity buzzing far more than the vexation I was signaling to him loud and clear.
His answer was to swing it over his shoulder and continue briskly ahead. His fingers on his right hand looped under the string while the fingers on his left still wrapped through mine.
I thought of lighting the paper on fire, just so that he would have to turn and speak to me, even if only to yell at what I had done.
At least I might be warmer.
“Don’t even think about it, Karus,” he said back to me, his voice casual and loud as he led me back down the street toward the castle.
The last stall he stepped up to was one of traveling supplies. There were knives, rolled blankets, canteens—anything one would need to cross the isle by horse or foot. I glared at the back of his head now, wondering how much longer he was going to punish me this way.
I thought he would want to sit and discuss what I had done. I thought he’d yell a bit or flash his black eyes at me a time or two, and I would have to console him and convince him that I was never going to be so rash again. I would kiss him and lean into him, and he would fall to my wiles as he always did and we could move past my mistake. But whatever this form of discipline was, it irked me to no end.
He knew very well that I was a curious soul and that this leading me around, buying the most random of items, hardly saying a word to me, was a punishment in itself.
He picked up a thin bit of rope and paid for it, chatting with the trader about its typical use and strength.
Rope?
Was he serious about a leash?
My cheeks burned at the thought. Surely, I was mistaken there.
He adjusted his grip on the bundled package, sliding the length of rope in between the twine, and striding off again, pulling me along with him.
This wasnotsupposed to be our morning. This wasnotsupposed to be how we spent our first day as companions, and I was fuming. I should have been leadinghimaround. I should have taken him to my favorite stalls, ones I had recognized through this torturous walk.
I hoped my glare seeped right into that mass of black hair and hit him square in the face.
He paused on the street and looked back at me, grinning wide.
I stood straight and resolute, putting my free hand on my hip.
He tilted his head back and laughed, pulling me closer. He pressed his cheek to mine whispering, “I know how this irritates you, Karus.”
I shivered hearing his breathy words. He turned back around before I could reply. I bit my lower lip and thought of what he could be planning.
Was he going to take me on a trip somewhere? Did he gather supplies to take back to Felgren after we spoke to the rulers of the isle? And what exactly was in that paper bundle? And rope?
I pulled my unbound hair to the side and tangled my free hand in my skits.
It was more than irritation. I hated this.
