Page 71 of A Song of Thieves

The path we travel is too narrow to ride side-by-side. The trees, although young and small, are situated close together, and I’m secretly relieved that I won’t have to deal with any prying questions. Or worse, sit in silence next to someone who witnessed a crack in my armor.

We break for the day with no sign of Lena, or Thenstra. It’s not surprising since we can’t travel on the main road, but I’d hoped we’d at least hear travelers passing in the distance. Thenstra’s gates must truly be shut tight. I don’t know if the captain has a plan to get through them, or if he has thought that far ahead.

I realize we've never actually discussed it. We should be strategizing and making plans, but I can hardly look at him let alone talk to him after last night.

The fire is warm against my face as I turn the rabbit, one I easily caught after we stopped for the day, making sure each side finds that golden brown hue. The smell of its blistering skin makes my stomach rumble.

The captain left a while ago to swim in the depths of the Villar, both to stretch his muscles and clean the layers of grime from his skin, he claimed. It has been days since Tess’s luxurious bathtub experience, and while the water may be cold, my body yearns to wash free the events of yesterday. I’m anything if not patient for my turn, giving him his space to rest and clean up. My eyes wander between the trees and toward the water for a brief moment before returning to the fire in front of me and the roasting meat.

I stand, stretching taught muscles as I shoot a few arrows in a nearby tree at varying distances, aiming for a knot in the trunk. Anything to divert my mind. I hit close to the center, but never make my mark.

“Don’t pull back until you’re ready to shoot,” a familiar voice says, coming up from behind. My body tenses, but I don’t turn to acknowledge him. He moves until he’s close enough for me to feel his radiating heat. The water must not have beentoocold.

“It takes energy to nock an arrow and hold it back. Don’t waste that energy as you aim. Your eyes know where the arrow needs to go. Trust your body to get it there.” His voice is low, as if he’s telling me a secret. A shiver runs up my spine.

“I trusted that my arrow would find the heart of the man trying to kill you last night,” I sneer at him, masking that shiver. A smart woman would take his help— lock it away in her arsenal of knowledge and skill. But right now, that woman isn’t me.

“Yes. My neck is forever grateful to you that it’s still intact.” He rubs at his neck, a grin running across his lips just before his austere demeanor steels back into place. “Your entire body changes when you’re threatened. Your strength, stamina, and focus are intensified tenfold. During a fight, I’ve seen men attack and kill someone twice their size. Building that focus when you’re not under threat will give you that much more of an advantage when you are in danger.”

Captain Montgomery has come out to lecture me, it would seem. I want to roll my eyes and remind him I’m not one of his recruits, but I refrain.

When I only cock an eyebrow, he holds out his hand. “May I try?”

I hand him my bow, and he takes a step toward me. My breath hitches as he looms close enough that I can hear each steady inhale and exhale, close enough to see the smallest bit of stubble growing where I shaved only last night. The memory of his hand brushing my hair behind my ear before moving down my arm, the look in his eyes as he did it, floods a warmth through me that makes me wish I could jump in the cold river to wash it away.

He reaches over me, grabbing an arrow from the quiver at my back, his dark hair falling into his face. I scoff, rolling my eyes as he winks at me, trying to ignore how the blue in them reminds me of the oceans of Turin. Boy would it feel good to knock that smile off his face, if only to give myself something else to focus on.

He turns, spotting the knot in the trunk surrounded by my own mislaid arrows. Usually, I’m a great shot. I hit the mark when it counted, at least. He pulls back quickly, hitting the mass just off center.

My mouth gapes open as I take it in. “I thought you said Aiden was the best with the bow?”

“He is. He would have hit the mark dead center.” He laughs a little as he goes to retrieve the arrow, also gathering my own and bringing them back with him.

I watch him as he walks, like seeing him for the first time. I knew he was strong, was never blind to the muscles bunching beneath his shirt and making his pants taut around the thigh. However, this is the first time I sized him up not as an opponent, but something else entirely. My heart is pounding as he catches me staring at him.

I await a snide remark, but instead he says, “You have the strength and ability for the bow. And you proved last night you can aim under pressure. Now you just need to practice your intention and focus.”

Last night wasn’t beginner’s luck. A dagger may be my preferred weapon, but I’m decent enough with a bow. Today, however, I haven’t been able to shoot a single straight shot.

Once he hands me my arrows, I nock one and let it fly, hitting at the edge of the knot. It wasn’t perfect, but the closest I’ve gotten since I started. I prepare myself for the gloat of his teaching skills, but when I turn he is no longer in the clearing.

My eyes scan the trees. He probably just went back to camp, but I can’t seem to help my continued perusal. Just as I’m about to finish the search, my gaze freezes on his bare chest. He is standing half naked in the banks of the river just off from my practice site. His shirt is bunched in his hands, his pants rolled up at the ankles. His chest and shoulders look like that of a statue— perfectly carved like he was made of stone itself. I may even believe he was if each movement didn’t pull his muscles into a dance, rippling across his back and stomach like the perfected combination of an arabesque, pirouette, and relevé.

Roan rinses his shirt in the water, cupping more onto his face and body. It seems he's taking controlled inhales and exhales as he does it. Is the water cold, or is it something else? My focus hones in as the liquid sluices down his toned torso, my feet inching closer to the stream’s edge. It isn’t the first time I have seen his bare arms, but it’s the first time I can actually appreciate how they match the rest of him so perfectly.

He spots me staring at him, again, a ridiculous grin forming on his wet face. I look away as if I hadn’t been awkwardly gawking at him like a bird spotting a nice, juicy worm. “It’s not very deep, but it’s refreshing enough,” he calls out to me.

I move to sit on the bank, no longer daring to look up, but also acting as if nothing is amiss. I’ve been getting good at pretending nowadays. My shoes come off, and I soak my feet as I pour water over my face and hair, doing my best not to look in his direction again, not even once.

“Would you like some help?” He’s next to me before I have a chance to answer. His hands are much bigger than mine, bringing a steady stream of water over my head until I start to feel the relief of a clean face and dirt-free hair. My shirt is soaked once he finishes, but I know a few moments spent next to the fire this evening will have it dry in no time.

“Thank you, Captain,” I manage to say after he takes a seat next to me. His arm brushes my own as he wrings out the remaining water from his shirt and dawns it once again. I finally relax a little when his skin is covered.

“You’re welcome. And I told you, please call me Roan,” he answers, grabbing his boots and lacing them up.

“Thank you, Roan,” I reply sheepishly. The intimacy of using his given name was a bad call, his clear enjoyment of it knocking more pink to my cheeks. Do I look like a fool? I must.

I’m still unwilling to meet his eyes. Instead, I listen to the soft hum of flowing water, again trying not to think of everything I just saw. But the image of his tanned skin, the shadow of each muscle perfectly reflected within the final fingers of light is burned into my mind. And a small part of me is glad for it. The other part is screaming that I should get away, to turn and run as fast as I can.

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