“Did you ever consider that I might have been killed?” Kolby asked as he bathed.

The area around the village appeared to have been dyed red. Even the puddles past the monastery were fouled from the violent bloodbath. Kolby had been forced down to the river to wash. Farilane found him stripped to his waist, cleaning both his body and clothes. A single line of red snaked downstream from him.

“No,” she replied.

Kolby looked up, surprised and perhaps a bit hurt. “Really?”

“Of course not. I also don’t take into consideration whether or not the seasons will continue to change before I plan for the year.”

“Victory in combat is never a certainty, Your Highness.”

She smirked at him. “You don’t even have a scratch. The only marks on you are those stupid tattoos.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” She slipped off Mirthlyn. “Did you want them to slaughter this entire village? Look at the girl over there.” She pointed to a twelve-year-old child crying beside the village cistern. “Go over there and tell her—”

“I didn’t say you weren’t right.”

“No? What are you saying?”

“I . . .” Kolby took a breath. “I don’t know now. You made me forget. I suppose I’m just frustrated.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know.”

Farilane studied him. Kolby’s eyes were strained, the muscles on his face taut. The line of his compressed lips was drawn down. “You really are upset.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

He shook his head and resumed plunging his tunic in the river. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is.” She approached until her feet were in the water. “Why did you—”

“He was scared,” Virgil announced, as he strode down the grassy slope.

“The old man survived,” Farilane observed. “I’ll have to try harder next time.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” Virgil replied.

Farilane looked back at her washing knight. “And for your information, it’s a practical impossibility for Kolby to be scared.”

“Is it?” Virgil asked. The old man looked at Kolby.

Farilane did, too.

The knight said nothing. He refused to look at either one.

“You were scared?” Farilane said. “Why?”

Kolby found new interest in his cleaning.

“He was afraid something might happen to you, my dear.”

“Oh, sweet cackling serenade, you’re not in love with me, are you?”

Kolby jerked up, his eyes wide. “By the Unholy Twins! I’m certainly glad I’m not, or that comment surely would have killed me.”

“Sorry,” she said. “That was coarse, wasn’t it? I just—you caught me off guard.” She retreated out of the water and wiped her sandals. “So why—”

“I have one charge, and that’s protecting you.”

“He’s lying,” Virgil said. “It’s more than that.”

This brought a dangerous glare from the knight.

“Don’t ever call a Teshlor a liar, Virgil,” Farilane said quickly and seriously.