“I don’t look like that.”

“Yes, you do. Smile once in a while. You’ll get less of those ugly lines on your face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Just offering some friendly advice.”

“I appreciate it.” It didn’t sound like he appreciated it at all.

The rest of the day was spent walking and trading barbed words. Bryony couldn’t seem to help herself. And though she feigned offense each time Ludo sent a volley in her direction, if she was being honest, she was quite enjoying it. Ludo was proving himself to be a quick wit, and always had a clever retort ready on his tongue. She was also up to the challenge, and more than once she’d caught his lips curling into a smile or heard a muffled laugh slip free before he could stifle it.

Eventually, the storm abated, the clouds parted, and the sun presented itself, steam rising off the blanket as they wrung it out and held it between them to dry.

Time passed quickly, the nondescript landscape falling away behind them, finally changing just as the evening shadows began to gather for sunset. Ahead, the road forked. The left fork angled toward where a village was nestled along the banks of a small stream that had the potential to swell to a full-blown river during the rainy season. The right fork veered southward, where the first crests of towering hills could be spotted. The Oathlands, Bryony knew they were called, though she’d never been there before. No one she knew had. Tucked somewhere within the series of hillocks and valleys was Oath, home to the Daughters of Ereniel, strange old women who supposedly could communicate with the gods and goddesses Themselves, if rumors and gossip were to be believed.

“Ever been to Slough?” Ludo asked, gesturing toward the village.

“Never, and I don’t plan to go now.”

“Why not? Soft beds, a roof over our heads, a warm meal…not sure what’s not to like.”

“I’d just rather…keep moving.”

“It’s not like we’re going to get hitched and settle down.”

She raised her brows at him. “Exactly. An unwed man and woman traveling together will raise questions. Questions I’d rather not answer.”

“We can enter the town separately. Pretend we don’t even know each other.”

“As enticing as pretending not to know you sounds, I’ll pass. But don’t let me stop you. Feel free to go enjoy your respite.” She watched his expression carefully. She was basically giving him the opportunity to do what he’d almost done the night before: leave her.

He gave nothing away, his face neutral, businesslike. “Where will you camp?”

“Behind one of those hills.”

“In the Oathlands?”

“Don’t say it like I’ll be entering the fires of the Void. I’ll just be on the edge of the Oathlands. Are you worried a murderous old holy woman is going to stick me with a knife in my sleep?”

“And if you have another nightmare?”