Page 41 of Upon Buried Embers
I feel eyes on me as we walk, members talking amongst themselves, cooking pots boiling. It must be nice to have people that care about you, I think to myself as a woman helps a man wrap his leg from some sort of wound.
“No more dragons have been spotted so far,” Garret says, stepping up beside Rohan.
“Good. Have we buried the wild one yet?” My mind goes to the dragon that attacked while I tried to escape.
“Yes,” he says, voice sad. Rohan nods.
I didn’t know they buried dragons; I figured if one died they would just... I don’t know, leave it?
We enter Rohan’s tent not long after, it’s the largest one here, and we sit on the pillows on the floor. Rohan unties my rope and I wait, with my head bowed. I peek at him from the corner of my eye, watching him remove a braid from his hair.
How does his hair look so soft when mine always tangles?
He grabs a comb from the table and brushes it out.
“Dragonbond?” Someone calls from outside the tent.
“Enter.”
Two women appear, Saelon and Agnis, with plates of food, offering soft smiles to their clan leader. “No one is to disturb me.”
They eye me. “Of course.”
They place food down on the table and leave without another word.
“Now, watch.” I look up at his words, and to my surprise, he braids his hair slowly, showing me how to maneuver the hair between his fingers.
When he’s done, he undoes it then looks at me expectantly.
I stare at him, eyes wide. What does he want me to do?
I look at the food.
Of course! I’m an idiot.
I grab the bread, bringing it up to his lips.
He doesn’t open his mouth, doesn’t help me feed him. He grabs my wrists, frowning.
“What are you doing?”
“F-feeding you?” My answer sounds more like a question.
“I do not need feeding,” he growls. “I’m very capable of feeding myself.”
“Sorry.”
He mutters, then reaching around me, he slips his hand in the side of my pants. I squeak in fear when he grabs the apple and holds it up between us.
“Seems your thieving days aren’t over, Elf.” My cheeks heat, and he takes a large bite. “Braid my hair.”
I put the bread down and wipe my fingers clean.
Isn’t he going to punish me for the apple?
I don’t dare ask.
Shakily, I grab Rohan’s hair and part it into three sections like he did, then I move them over and under, swap one strand for the other—
