“The desire to sleep with men instead of women,” he said with great bitterness.

Confounded I stared at the top of his head. I cleared my throat and ventured an answer. “No.”

My reply seemed to stymie him and he walked on a little faster. Obligingly Feather increased her pace as well. Despite Garranon’s obvious desire to get away from me, I didn’t slow Feather because I realized what Garranon’s problem was.

“My uncle doesn’t dislike you because you sleep with the king,” I said. “He dislikes you because you served the king’s writ on me while I was under his protection—and he couldn’t do anything about it. Tosten has a similar problem. The rest of them,” I jerked my chin at the Blue Guard, “they might just not like you because you’re an Oranstonian. But, more probably, they think homosexuality is catching.”

Garranon turned his head away for a moment, then relaxed and laughed.

“Now as for me,” I continued, “I have my eye on a woman and could really care less what bed you spend your time in.”

He looked up at me to say something, but changed what he was going to say when he got a good look at me. “I’ve seen people look healthier than you on their funeral pyre.”

“So I’ve been t-told.” I’d been stuttering a lot since I left the Asylum. I took a small sip from the water bladder I carried on my saddle and tried not to think about the touch of Jade Eyes’s hands.

My experiences in the Asylum had left me with a couple of questions and it occurred to me that Garranon might be able to answer them.

“In the Asylum,” I said struggling both with the words and getting my stubborn tongue around them. “Jade Eyes . . .” My throat froze and I looked away.

Garranon’s hand rested on my knee. “Rape is rape,” he said, “whether your body responds or not.”

I flushed scarlet and shook my head. “He didn’t actually . . .”

Garranon waited for me to finish, but when I couldn’t he said, “Rape is one person hurting another because he can. Sometimes a rapist hurts your body, sometimes your soul.”

After a while he said, “Making love, to a man or a woman, is about caring, passion, and joy; not just physical pleasure.” When I looked at him, he grinned and continued lightly, “But done right it feels good, too.”

The signal for mount-up broke through the crisp air. Garranon got on his horse.

“Thank you,” I said.

He smiled at me and bowed in the saddle, before we set our horses off at a trot.