Midnight Moon (The Bleeding Crown Book 1)

Chapter 15 - Tales and Trust

Veanna strolled back from the river, feeling more composed and relaxed than she had in weeks. It was odd to not be doused in perfumes and oils, but the refreshing scent of earth was infinitely better than dirt and sweat.

As she emerged from the trees, Neyerith said something to Tia and edged closer. Tia glared at him and moved pointedly away.

Veanna shook her head. "You're incredibly creepy," she informed him as she neared.

He gaped in protest. "I haven't done anything."

She arched an eyebrow. "You're talking to Tia; I assumed everything you said was vulgar."

"Oh, Princess, we're just talking like adults," he said, his expression transforming into a wicked grin.

"We're adults," she shot back, gesturing to Tia, "You are an adolescent stuck in a man's body."

Tia made a noise of agreement and scooped up her satchel, swinging it onto her shoulder so it struck the back of Neyerith's head. "I am going to wash."

"Want a hand?" he offered, waggling his eyebrows.

"I would rather drink bile," the Outlander responded cooly, her eyes dark and unamused.

"Are you sure? I might be able to get to places you can't reach."

Veanna's lip curled. "Gross."

He shot her a wink. "Don't you worry, I'll keep everything away from your eyes. We wouldn't want to offend your delicate sensibilities."

"Oh, that's alright then," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"If my past encounters are anything to go by, I'm afraid I can't make the same promise to keep it from your ears..."

Veanna held back a disgusted scoff, though her scowl wouldn't quite stay in place.

"Stay here, or I will gouge your eyes out," Tia snapped. "And do not even think about harming a hair on Veanna's head." With one last dangerous look, she stalked towards the river.

"Losing my sight would be worth it to glimpse your divine body," Neyerith called after her.

Veanna pulled a face, but broke into a grin when Tia responded with a rude gesture without turning around. "You're not going to get anywhere with her," she said, ringing out her hair.

He turned his smile lazily to her. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Princess. I'm very determined, and there's a long journey ahead with just the three of us."

She frowned. "Have you ever considered that she might get along with you more if you were nice to her, rather than reducing her existence to someone you can bed?"

"How else would I get to go to bed with her?" he countered, the shine in his eyes betraying his jest.

Veanna rolled her eyes again, but didn't say anything further, laying out her washed clothes and bandages on a rock to dry. She settled beside her pack, withdrawing her salve and fresh cloth. She positioned herself facing away from Neyerith, not knowing how to act around him without Tia's buffering presence. His words may occasionally amuse her, but there was danger in that silver tongue.

The salve was warm on her palms, her skin still cool from the river. She lay a bandage on her leg and shifted her hand over it, trying to remember how Tia bound her wounds.

"Want some help?" Neyerith spoke up, his unusually gentle tone almost making her jump. That warm voice made him sound like a different man.

Veanna glanced over her shoulder to see his expression impassive but his eyes soft, like someone was peeking through his slick façade. She hesitated, as though Tia would spring from the trees and shield her from this interaction, but nodded when no interruption came. "Yes, thank you," she said quietly as heat rose to her cheeks. It was one thing to accept help from Tia, but from Neyerith, who had shamed her country and her father? She swallowed the lump of pride in her throat.